


This Tune is Where We Belong

by isuilde



Series: RaM Verse [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Entertainment Industry, Idol AU, M/M, also haruka isn't obsessed with water either, but that's because i can't find a good reason for him to be, in which nobody is obsessed with swimming, inspired by WaT, snagging WaT's song titles shamelessly because I suck at titling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They start off small: a show in the park, with Haruka and Gou lurking close by, trying to attract people’s eyes and ears and hearts by the melody born under their fingertips and the words they sing to the wind. They’re both tenors, so sometimes he covers the lower notes and sometimes Rin covers them, but overall their voices blend smoothly no matter if it’s a ballad or slow rock.</p><p>(MakoRin Idol AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hava Rava

**Author's Note:**

> I take no responsibility over this fic. It is all [Yuki's](http://yukirinrambles.tumblr.com/) fault. I told myself not to do this but then I remembered that both Mamo and Tatsun have roles in UtaPri, and I caved in. But really, everything is Yuki's fault, because she's the one who started comparing Rin and Makoto to WaT.
> 
> Unbeta-ed. Also, I'm just going to say this now: some of the situations written in this fic are ripped off shamelessly from some of WaT's interviews and PVs. As are RaM's song titles. Even so, I like to imagine that RaM's music is more of the slow rock/ballad genre. Also, in no way am I putting a set role for Makoto and Rin as Eiji and Teppei. I decided to explore their characters in similar situations, that's what this is. Please enjoy, and your comments would be much appreciated. :D

The first thing about Rin that catches Makoto’s eyes is his fingers. 

They’re long and agile, flying across the frets of the red guitar in his hold without the slightest hesitation and steadily holding the note. His grip is strong but comfortable; a sign that he’s played guitar for probably his whole life. The movements of his fingers plucking the strings over the sound hole is gentle and almost lazy—no guitar pick, Makoto notices, and for a second he admires the callouses on those long fingers. 

Then Rin sings, and Makoto’s whole world changes. 

\-----o0o----- 

They start off small: a show in the park, with Haruka and Gou lurking close by, trying to attract people’s eyes and ears and hearts by the melody born under their fingertips and the words they sing to the wind. They’re both tenors, so sometimes he covers the lower notes and sometimes Rin covers them, but overall their voices blend smoothly no matter if it’s a ballad or slow rock. 

But the people who pass the park always have somewhere in mind, somewhere more important than stopping by to listen to their tune. Makoto reminds himself almost every day that they need to take small steps if they were to reach their dream at all—they would need to wait, for chance and for luck, and fate would take them from there. 

Rin invites him and Haruka to his apartment, where he lives with Gou and their mother. He finds out that Rin’s late father was a rising idol who dropped his dream and career in order to marry his mother who was pregnant with Rin at the time, and then became a piano instructor. He sees first-hand how much Rin loves music—the scattered posters of bands in his room, a full ten volumes of Encyclopedia of Popular Music, all in English, an old, broken gramophone he still keeps on his table that apparently belongs to his granddad, and a stack of old notebooks with unfinished songs scribbled on it, which Rin hastily hides from view. 

“I want to realize my dad’s dream,” Rin tells him when they stand on the balcony, waiting for Rin’s mother to finish dinner preparation. “I love music, I do, but above everything, I want to be an idol. It’d be a tribute for my Dad; because he chose to marry Mom so she could keep me. So I could be born. Even though he had to throw everything away, everything that he built from scratch.” 

“But you love music,” Makoto says, because Rin sounds a little lonely just now. 

Rin nods. “I do. But I play for my Dad.” 

Makoto thinks it’s kind of sad that Rin doesn’t play for himself, but for someone who is long gone, but that doesn’t change the fact that Rin loves music. So he says, “But you love music. That’s probably the only thing we have in common.” 

Rin flashes him a grin. “Think it’d be enough to take us up there?” 

“It has to be,” Makoto insists, because he wants to do this, he will always want to do his music with Rin’s long fingers across the guitar strings and smooth tenor. He wants to do this with someone who loves music just as much as he does. 

He learns that Rin plays the piano and bass guitar too but he much prefers the guitar because he likes the way those strings strain under his fingertips. Haruka tells Rin that Makoto plays harmonica, and Gou spends the rest of their visit trying to rope him into giving a performance with her mother’s old harmonica. In the end, he only obliges because Rin’s mother asks him to play with a smile that is brighter than the sun. 

When Rin slides onto the piano seat and starts playing in the middle of the song Makoto plays, something warm spreads inside his chest and he nearly chokes in the sheer happiness that it brings. He stares at Rin, at the long fingers that are just as agile upon the ivory keys as they are on the strings, and thinks, _if only time would stop_. 

And that is how Tachibana Makoto falls in love with his duet partner. 

\-----o0o----- 

“I got you an opening gig,” Haruka says. Both Rin and Makoto look at him like he’s god. 

They’re twenty and the café where their first gig would be is small, but it’s cozy and warm and has a small stage just enough for a grand piano, two singers and their guitars. The owner, Sasabe-san, is an old friend of Haruka’s mother. Makoto thinks he remember seeing this Sasabe-san drop by Haruka’s house when they were little, and he’s probably right because Sasabe-san looks at him like he’s a nephew he hasn’t gotten to meet in a long time. There are hearty slaps on his shoulders and proud encouragement when they all arrive in the café, about how Makoto’s grown up and how he’s so big now that he towers over most of everyone in town. Makoto just blushes, to his friends’ amusement. 

It’s just an opening show, Haruka and Gou explain to them. The real star would be a rising solo singer who frequents the café, has just debuted and currently has his debut single ranks eleven on the Oricon Weekly chart. Makoto and Rin would be replacing a group of a cappella singers who had to cancel on last minutes. It’s nerve-wracking, because it’s literally their first time on stage, and this isn’t at all the same as trying to attract the attention of the people in the park. 

This is having a real audience, who’s got their attention on them from the beginning, and trying to satisfy them. 

“We’ll be fine,” Rin says confidently after they finish going over the list of songs they would be covering tonight: Miura Daichi’s _Two Hearts_ , Bump of Chicken’s _Glass of Blues_ , JAY’ED’s _Kimi no Te wo_ , and Akeboshi’s _Green Eyes_. He puts a hand on Makoto’s shoulder and squeezes hard. “These are easy songs, Makoto. We’ll be fine.” 

Makoto takes a deep breath and answers, “Yeah.” 

He chooses not to mention about how Rin’s fingers are shaking. 

\-----o0o----- 

He should compliment Sasabe-san for the lightings, Makoto thinks when they step up on the stage. It’s perfect—the spotlights aren’t blinding and instead softly illuminating their figures, giving the edge of the stage the kind of dimness that would make them stand out to the rest of the room but not glaring at the audience. The stage wooden floor is polished and Makoto listens to the staccato sounds that are Rin and his own steps as they take up the high chairs set on the center of the stage before the microphones. 

He softly taps the microphone to check the sound, catches Rin’s eyes and nods—everything is set. 

“Um, good evening, everyone.” Rin begins, and Makoto lets his eyes roam towards said everyone. It’s only seven o’clock, there are only a handful of people lounging on their respective tables. Ten people at most, Makoto silently notes. Both Haruka and Gou sit at the table closest to the stage, their gazes and grins (or in Haru’s case, thoughtful look) a silent support for the duo on stage. 

“So we call ourselves RaM, which is basically just our initials, you know,” Rin waves his hand dismissively, drawing chuckles from some people in the audience. “I’m Rin, and this is my partner, Makoto. We’re doing acoustics tonight, get you in the mood for more drinks and company, and hopefully more money for the owner Sasabe-san in the back, you get my drift.” 

“Leeching from us, eh?” someone in the far back shouts in boisterous laughter, drawing the whole room into chuckles. 

Rin points at the general direction of the voice and throws a wink. “Damn man, you got me.” 

And Makoto admires Rin for this—the way his grins seem to stretch so easily for public’s eyes, the way witty words jumps off his tongue without so much of an effort, the way he always manages to make everything seems easier. Makoto knows better though; he notices how Rin’s knuckles are white around the neck of his guitar, notices how Rin blinks thrice more often than he usually does, notices the shaky edges of his mouth when he smiles. 

Rin is trying so hard. The thought sends warmth through his entire being. 

“So for our first song, we’re going to sing _Two Hearts_. Miura Daichi—yeah,” there’s a small round of enthusiastic applause from the audience. Rin pauses, waits for the applause to fade, and continues, “Yeah, it’s for everyone who is falling in love right now or—or is thinking of their better half. Or worse half, whichever suits your needs.” Another string of laughter and Makoto watches the audience, fascinated at each pair of eyes that are looking at the stage intently. “It’s—this song, it’s been my favorite for a long time, it’s a really good song, very romantic. So please enjoy.” 

He glances sideways and meets Makoto’s eyes, nodding. 

The feel of taut strings under his fingertips is reassuring, another steady familiarity aside from Rin’s presence in a situation alien to him. His fingers move almost mindlessly, and he’s actually surprised that he isn’t as nervous as he was before going up the stage. When he closes his eyes and focus on the feeling, it’s like the weekends in the park all over again: Rin by his side, his guitar in his arms, their tunes carried out by the wind as Haruka and Gou watching from somewhere nearby. Makoto lets his fingers skim across the frets, legs propping up his guitar better into his arms, and plucks the first note. 

Rin’s first hum into the microphone wraps around the room like a soothing blanket, bringing forth a sense of calm even as Makoto takes a breath and follows. The melody and harmony of their guitars blend seamlessly as it transitions to the first verse of the song, where Makoto closes his eyes, lets the music takes his whole being adrift, opens his mouth and sings. 

Their voices intermingle like two different colored threads gently looping around each other into one beautiful line. It bends in every dip of Rin’s voice and every rasp of Makoto’s own, trembles with the vibration on the notes Rin holds out, bounces at every change of key under Makoto’s fingers. As Rin’s voice rises on the chorus, Makoto’s goes down, taking the lower notes and supports Rin’s falsetto, the line bursts into specks of colors, painting the world anew. 

The song ends with his voice trailing off behind the last note of Rin’s guitar; Makoto feels so full of everything, so content and happy that he thinks if he draws a breath the moment would shatter. 

And then the applause tears through the whole room, snapping Makoto out of his reverie, loud and boisterous and appreciative, and something in Makoto’s chest literally explodes because suddenly everything under the spotlight is hot—his eyes are wide open and his heart thumping so hard he thinks he can actually hear it—and he is shaking, shaking really hard that he has to hug his guitar before it falls to the floor. He turns to Rin, who is blinking back at him, eyes bright and feverish and full of disbelief, like he can’t believe that the applause are directed at them, for them— 

Laughter bubbles up Makoto’s throat and he lets them out in breathless chuckles, lips stretched out so wide that his cheeks actually hurt. But it’s worth it, because Rin beams back at him, his smile a thousand times brighter than the summer sky, his laugh freer than the summer breeze. Makoto drinks everything in: Rin’s expression, Haruka and Gou’s proud and ecstatic gaze from their table, the applause echoing in every corner of the café—a promise of a future better than telling their tunes to the people in the park. 

Small steps, Makoto reminds himself. Small steps. 

\-----o0o----- 

Sasabe-san invites them to play more and more often afterwards, and their name is now on the performers list on the front door. Their crowd grows; from ten to twenty to thirty even though they still only do opening performances for various café singers. They start getting requests, and get slightly less jittery on stage with every performance. Makoto stumbles his way to greeting their audience on stage, which Rin lightly makes fun of to lighten the atmosphere, but he always gives Makoto tips on how to improve on it after their show. 

They also get invitations from other cafes for opening shows, and start getting on good terms with the singers whom they do opening shows for. One of them is the newly debuting Mikoshiba Seijuurou, who still frequently sings in the café as a favor to Sasabe-san despite the fact that his debut single is steadily making its way up to Oricon Monthly’s top ten. 

Or, in Rin’s petulant words, Mikoshiba gets a bit too friendly with Gou, instead of them. 

“Your sister’s really nice,” Mikoshiba says one day, when he arrives just before Makoto and Rin go up the stage. “Matsuoka, you won’t mind if I start courting her, will you?” 

“Try and die,” Rin shoots back. “Who the fuck says ‘courting’ anymore in this age, god.” 

Mikoshiba laughs boisterously, slapping Rin on the back and cheerfully wanders away to greet Sasabe-san who, much to Rin’s chagrin, is discussing something with Gou. 

Makoto stares, amused, at the way Rin glares daggers at Mikoshiba. “He won’t do anything, Rin,” he says, jerking his head towards the stage. “Come on. We have a show to do.” 

“Remind me to kill him when we’re done,” Rin grumbles, and Makoto laughs under his breath as they steps up and the spotlight greets them. 

\-----o0o----- 

Makoto and Haruka’s apartment has been some kind of their base camp since the four of them grew closer, so that’s where they always go before and after shows. It’s actually kind of pointless for Rin and Gou to go there after, because their apartment is just one block away, but they always go anyway, and oftentimes Makoto is the one who has to call Rin’s mother to tell her that yes, her children are in his apartment, and no, they won’t be sleeping over. 

That evening, Rin is teaching Makoto on how to talk on stage again while Haruka cooks mackerel for supper, and that’s when Gou bursts into the room, looking like Christmas has come early in July. 

“Opening show for Mikoshiba-san, Sunday night at _Tryst_ ,” she says, waving her cell phone. It’s still on, and Makoto thinks he catch a sight of a mail on the screen. “You guys gotta do your best, okay, there’s going to be a producer, this is a huge chance!” 

Makoto tenses and Rin straightens up. “A producer?” 

“Ah,” Haruka says mildly, not even turning to look at the rest of them. “You managed to convince Mikoshiba-san.” 

There’s a beat of pause hanging above them before Rin shatters it into pieces with one angry bellow. “Gou!” 

“Rin,” Makoto begins, reaching out to put a hand on Rin’s shoulder even as Gou’s face pales a little. Rin slaps his hand away, and Makoto stiffens because no matter how many times he’s seen Rin lose his temper and push everyone away, it still stings when he’s the one being rejected. 

Gou looks like she’s about to cower for a second, but then she squares her shoulders and stares right back at Rin. “I didn’t do anything! Oniichan, he was the one who started talking about how good you and Makoto-senpai are, and he didn’t ask for anything in return—“ 

“Manipulative bastard,” Rin growls under his breath, cracking his knuckles. “I fucking told him off and he dared to talk to you—“ 

“ _I_ started talking to him!” Gou shrills. “Oniichan, it doesn’t matter, we have a huge chance now, there’s a producer coming—“ 

“I’ll fucking kill him—“ and then a spatula bounces off Rin’s head and Rin yelps both in surprise and pain, whirling around to glare at Haruka, who stares back impassively at him. “What the fuck, Haru?!” 

“My hand slipped,” Haruka says, and Makoto just can’t help it. He laughs. 

He laughs really hard that the other three turn to look at him like he’s lost his mind. He laughs until his stomach cramps, until he can hardly breathes, until his throat turns raw and starts hurting. He laughs until tears pool on the corner of his eyes, until he can’t keep himself upright and throws himself back onto the floor, curling into a fetal position. 

“He lost it.” Rin says rather helplessly. “My partner is gone.” 

And oh, the word sounds so beautiful. _Partner_. 

“Sorry,” Makoto chokes out, laughter still tickling the back of his throat, and he isn’t even sure why he laughed so hard. “Sorry, I just. Hahaha—“ 

Gou puts her hands on her hips. It’s a great pose. “Makoto-senpai, you’re going to die if you don’t breathe.” 

Makoto gasps. “Water—“ he croaks, and it’s Haruka who gets him a glass full of water. He downs the water in huge gulps, swallowing back the chuckles still threatening to get past his lips. When he finally breathes right again, he stares up at Rin and Gou, grinning. “You guys fight over the silliest things.” 

Rin looks at him like he’s not even from Earth. “Did you hit your head?” 

Makoto only gives him a funny look, and then turns to Gou. “Thank you for the hard work, Gou.” 

“What,” Rin says, with emotion, but Gou beams back at Makoto. 

Later, Makoto has to explain to Rin about how hard Gou has been trying to get them gigs: she’s been visiting various cafés looking for shows they could do, recording their performances and sending their resumes and sample CD to various agencies. She’s been using all her resources to get them a chance to debut, wanting to keep it a secret as a surprise for Rin, and Mikoshiba was her last effort. 

She played her cards right, though. Mikoshiba promised to bring his producer along the day of the show. 

\-----o0o----- 

Three days before the important day, Rin barges into Makoto and Haruka’s apartment at seven in the morning. Makoto takes one look at Rin over the rim of his cup of coffee—the flushed face, the ponytail, the training pants and jackets. Rin is probably on his way back from his morning jog, which means whatever it is he has in mind, he must have gotten it rather abruptly and think it’s absolutely important and it cannot wait. 

“Makoto,” he says, and Makoto watches Rin stalks over to the bookshelves, deft hands picking out a notebook and a pencil. He pushes both objects onto Makoto’s chest, brilliant eyes looking up at him in enthusiasm. “We’re going around the city today.” 

“What?” Makoto blinks. 

“We’re writing a song.” Rin beams at him. “So we’re brainstorming today. For the song.” 

\-----o0o----- 

“Let’s rock the world!” Hazuki Nagisa claims, slapping his business card onto the table before Rin and Makoto. Somewhere behind them, Gou makes inhuman noises and Haruka takes a breath sharply. 

Makoto stares at the business card. Rin stares at the tuft of blond hair currently standing before him. “How old are you, kid?” 

Hazuki actually pouts. “You know, that’s something people usually regret asking me, but since you guys are about to be my new stars, fine then. I’m nineteen.” 

“Nineteen,” Rin repeats as Makoto takes the business card on the table. It has a penguin waving a hand on the upper-left corner and purple butterflies along it edges. He turns to look at both Haruka and Gou, mouths a ‘ _this does not look legit_ ’ carefully so that Hazuki can’t see what he’s saying. 

“I’m Mikoshiba’s producer,” Hazuki says rather proudly, pulling a chair and plops down on it. He has a tall glass of orange juice in his hand. “Top ten in Oricon Monthly for a debut single, don’t you think that’s impressive?” His fingers fiddle with the straw, absently swirling the liquid inside the glass. “Let me be your producer.” 

Makoto considers the tuft of blond hair, the chipper grin and the big eyes looking expectantly at them, and glances at Rin hesitantly. Rin, however, doesn’t have the slightest hesitation when he says, “Yeah, no.” 

“Oniichan!” Gou hisses, but Rin ignores her and plows on. “You’re younger than us, you aren’t with any agency, you’re no different than any freelance. We’re not going to have any future with you.” He makes a face when Hazuki gives him his best puppy eyes. “Are you really fucking nineteen? You’re actually fifteen, aren’t you.”

“Come on, let me be your producer!” Hazuki leans forward, eyes literally twinkling. “Mikoshiba might be the first person I’ve ever produced, but he got into Oricon Monthly which is awesome—“ 

“Beginner’s luck,” Rin cuts in. 

“—and I swear I can do better than that for you!” Hazuki talks over him, turning from Rin to Makoto and snatches the brunette’s hands, squeezing them. “Pleeeease? Let me be your producer!” 

“Um,” Makoto says, half-awkward and half-amused. Rin glares. 

“It’s fine isn’t it?” Haruka tells them, returning Hazuki’s business card back onto the table. “We’re not going anywhere either way. It’s either taking this chance or staying stagnant and waiting for luck.” He pauses, eyes suddenly hard as he looks at Rin. “Which is a slim chance.” 

Hazuki beams. “Ooh, you understand! Nanase Haruka, aren’t you? Mikoshiba told me that you’re Tachibana’s manager!” He lets go of Makoto’s hands and rounds the table, takes Haruka’s arms into his own and actually nuzzles up with the top of his head. “Wow, this is great, I can tell we’re going to be the bestest of friends already, Haru-chan!” 

Makoto admires Haruka’s ability to take such comments with a straight face. 

Rin lets out a heavy sigh, one that Makoto recognizes as a sound of surrender. They look at each other, trying to come to a decision that definitely would change their whole careers—their whole lives—and Makoto remembers Gou’s hard work, remembers the times Haruka spends a whole day designing their show pamphlets, remembers Rin’s voice and the fingers that captivate him in the first place. 

He smiles. 

“We should give it a try.” 

“Fine,” Rin grouses, crossing his arms before turning to Hazuki. “Fine, okay, let’s make an agreement.” 

Hazuki perks up. “Agreement?” 

“Get us in the top five of Oricon Monthly Chart for our debut single. If you couldn’t do it, we’ll break off everything.” Rin smirks. “You said you could do better than what you did for Mikoshiba. Top five. Do we have a deal?” 

It’s actually somewhat terrifying, to see the way Hazuki’s blank face morphs into one that is of determination and confidence, but at the same time, Makoto thinks as he watches, almost mesmerized, maybe, just maybe, they have just made the best choice of their career. 

Maybe Hazuki could take them higher. 

“Deal!” 

\-----o0o----- 

Ryuugazaki Rei looks at them like they’ve personally offended him the first time they step into Hazuki’s office (it’s really just a studio apartment they rented and furnished to be an office, Mikoshiba told them). He frowns especially at Makoto’s wind-ruffled hair and outright says, “We’re not taking strays.” 

Makoto blinks. Rin bristles. Haruka’s face turns into the slightest frown. 

“Now, now, Rei-chan!” Hazuki sings, pushing all of them in, and Ryuugazaki scrambles up from his seat. “Don’t be so hard on our new stars. Everyone, this is Rei-chan. He’s my—“ his face scrunches up, like he’s looking for the best term to describe his friend. “Co-producer. Sometimes he’s more like my secretary, though.” 

“If you would do your share of the paperwork and help me with legal, I wouldn’t have to act like your secretary!” Ryuugazaki hisses. “And what do you mean, new stars?” 

“Remember the other day when I said I’m going out to scout? Mikoshiba got them for us,” Hazuki gestures at them lightly. “They call themselves RaM. This is Mako-chan and this is Rinrin—“ 

“The fuck?” Rin splutters. Hazuki blinks up at him with a thoughtful look. 

“No good? It’s Rin-chan, then.” 

“Who the fuck gave you permission to call me _that_?” 

 Ryuugazaki eyes them warily. “Please refrain from such obscenities, Rin-chan-san, they don’t sound beautiful at all.” 

“Rin-chan-sa—“ Rin abruptly stops himself, throws his hands up and turns around. “I’m not doing this. I’m leaving.” 

“Oniichan!” Gou laughs, fingers catching on Rin’s leather jacket and keeping him in place. Ryuugazaki turns to Hazuki, pushing his glasses up his nose as a frown forms on his face. “Nagisa-kun, I didn’t remember agreeing to this.” 

“That’s because I didn’t ask you,” Hazuki answers lightly. “But it’s fine, you’ll love them.” The blond gives him a winning smile, turns to the rest of them and says, “Give us a performance, you guys!” 

\-----o0o----- 

Their performance reduces Ryuugazaki—Rei, the bespectacled man had insisted—to tears with one word out of his lips: “Beautiful.” He then proceeds to make numerous phone calls to lots of people, leaving Hazuki—Nagisa, it’s Nagisa now—to go over their contract and discuss their next steps. 

“I feel like signing a pact with the devil,” Rin grumbles, drawing out a chuckle from Makoto as his pen scratches the surface of the paper, leaving the characters of his name on it. Nagisa looks over everything with an air of satisfaction. 

“Now,” the blond says, “We need your songs. Let’s do a recording next week, that’ll give you time to write a number of songs and give them to us. We’ll pick out three for your debut single.” 

“We have a song ready,” Makoto tells him, one hand rummaging in his bag for the CD they’d recorded after finishing the song. It’s an amateur work, recorded only using Rin’s microphone and Makoto’s laptop in the apartment, which Haruka had later mixed for a better quality. He hands over the CD to Nagisa; the clear case is coverless, with only one line written up hastily on the case: _Hava Rava_. 

“What does that mean?” Nagisa scrunches up his face curiously. 

“It’s just a word,” Rin grunts, and Makoto laughs, because yeah, the words don’t really have a meaning. Nagisa’s eyes flicker at Makoto, who completes the explanation. “To have fun. Just listen to it.” 

Turns out Nagisa likes the song a lot, and then he starts talking about making a PV after the recording, cheerfully laying out his plans for their promotional events and other things that Makoto can’t quite follow (because sometimes they involve penguins, to which Rin harshly objects), and Rei comes back with an appointment for a recording studio, and both Haruka and Gou start making out schedules, and Makoto is overwhelmed for a second because everything is moving too fast. 

He bumps his shoulder against Rin’s tentatively, and Rin turns with a concerned expression. “What?” 

“I just, well.” Makoto shrugs. “We’re moving really fast, Rin, are you sure—“ 

The grin Rin gives him is wide and bright and confident, nearly blinding. One arm slings around Makoto’s shoulder, its warmth and weight reassuring, and just like that, Makoto forgets about what he’d been worrying about. 

“We’re aiming for top five, Makoto. We gotta move fast.” 

Top five, Makoto imagines. It sounds surreal, but he thinks if it’s with Rin, they could probably make it. 

\-----o0o----- 

Their debut single is titled _Hava Rava_ ; the cover is a close up photo of both Rin and Makoto, where their heads are pressed together as they laugh, the words _Hava Rava_ and _RaM_ slapped under their chins in bright red and green, and Haruka’s cute drawings of a tiny orca and shark on the jacket of the CD. They shot the PV on the beach, running along the waves and playing their guitars in a silly room filled with ridiculous knick-knacks and colorful pillows and a dog, and it was great. Mikoshiba tags along because Gou is with them, wearing a yellow parka over her two-piece swimsuit. Rin gets all pissy when he spots the both of them buying hot dogs together, but they’re in the middle of shooting him buried to the neck in the sand, so he can’t exactly do anything about that. 

“This,” Nagisa says proudly when they finish and pack everything up. “Is going to be a huge hit.” 

And it is. Their debut single shoots to rank twenty on the Oricon Daily three days after their CD is released, and boosts up to rank nine on Oricon Weekly once their PV is up. There are constant calls to both Haruka and Gou’s phone, asking for interviews and guest offers. They get some photo shoot jobs and Makoto finds himself backpedaling when he passes a news stand with their faces plastered on some magazines. Sometimes he boards the train and catches the faint sound of their song playing through a random person’s earphone, or the sight of one of their promotional posters, and he wonders if it’s weird that he feels embarrassed about all of it. 

Rei rents out a new apartment for both Haruka and Makoto, claiming that no star or manager under their care is going to get inadequate accommodation. They move out, and Haruka prints a poster-sized version of their CD cover and puts it up on the living room wall where they all like lounging together with Makoto and Rin fiddling absently with their guitars. 

One morning, Makoto wakes up to the sound of his song playing on the radio and stays still, listening to the end. He thinks he can catch the laughter in Rin’s voice in the chorus line and the sharp breath in his own voice in the second verse where Rin had pressed their backs together in the recording session. He remembers his own shaky fingertips pressing too hard on the frets of his guitar when the recording began, remembers the way Rin breathed in deep and out before he started singing, remembers the two of them sitting face to face and tuning their guitars together. 

Then he pictures Gou’s beaming smiles and Haruka’s looks of satisfaction, and he knows that even if they didn’t make it to Oricon Monthly’s top five, he’d be okay staying under Nagisa and Rei’s wings. 

\-----o0o----- 

In the end, they rank sixth in Oricon Monthly, and Nagisa looks so sad that even Rin doesn’t have the heart to snark at him. Instead, he puts a hand on Nagisa’s shoulder and says, rather gruffly, “Tried our best.” 

Nagisa turns a hopeful look at him. “You won’t leave, Rin-chan?” 

Rin shrugs. “You did good, I guess.” And then there’s a high-pitched squeal as Nagisa launches himself onto Rin, bringing him down in a tumble that knocks the air off Rin’s lungs. “Oi! Get off—fuck, Nagisa, I swear, you’re actually ten aren’t you?!” 

“I’ll be ten year-old if that’s what it takes for you not to leave!” 

“Fuck that, we’re leaving! Come on, Makoto, help me up and we’re leaving right now!” 

Makoto laughs and laughs, thinks of the melody made out of the underlining happiness in Rin’s voice and Nagisa’s laughter, and hums under his breath. 

\-----o0o----- 

At night, with Haruka lounging against his back on the couch, Makoto takes his guitar and creates songs. 

He turns Haruka’s yawns into notes, plucks the strings to describe Rei’s rambling about how beautiful they sound, changes the pride in Gou’s face into new tunes, and tries to put Nagisa’s enthusiasm into the harmony. He spun the melody of the serene expression on Rin’s face when a really good song plays on the radio, of the way Rin’s fingers skitters on the frets of his guitar, of Rin’s warmth against his side when they sit together for an interview, of the way his heart skip a beat every time Rin look at him and smile. 

In the end, though, he never finishes the song. The night would grow late, and Haruka’s reassuring weight on his back would turn into a dead weight that tells Makoto he’s fallen asleep. The song would be abandoned in favor of waking Haruka up and sending him to bed, and Makoto would clean everything up and go to sleep himself. 

The song is never written, never finished. But Makoto memorizes it perfectly in his head, because the song is Haruka’s yawn and Rei’s ramblings and Gou’s pride and Nagisa’s enthusiasm. The song is Rin’s look, Rin’s fingers, Rin’s warmth. He’d play it absently whenever he fiddles with his guitar, always stopping abruptly because the song isn’t finished and that’s just where it ends for now. 

\-----o0o-----


	2. Boku no Kimochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (And yeah, no plot, sorry, I just wanted to write Makoto and Rin flirting in front of cameras a lot okay, hit me.)

The thing is, Rin is a very different person in front of the camera. 

Makoto knows this. In front of the camera, the grouchy Rin vanishes, replaced completely by a much cheerful persona that reminds Makoto a lot of Gou. He smiles and grins and laughs like he means it, and sometimes Makoto hates that because Rin would look even more exhausted by the end of the day. But that’s just it—Rin’s making up for something that Makoto isn’t too good at. So the redhead talks in front of the camera, draws everyone’s attention to himself so that Makoto doesn’t have to deal with various questions that are often too personal to answer. 

“I’m sorry, Rin,” he tells Rin one day after their appearance in a variety show. Rin looks at him funny for a second, but then shrugs like it’s no big deal, like his shoulders hadn’t been dropping every time the camera doesn’t focus on them. 

“What are you apologizing for, idiot,” he punches Makoto lightly on the shoulder. “Come on, we still got an interview after this. You’re good with interviews, charm them.” 

Their fingertips brushes as Rin draws away, and Makoto tries to catch them. His hand closes on empty air, though, so he calls out, “Rin,” to make the redhead stop in his step, and continues, “Thank you.” 

Rin stares at him. 

Makoto smiles. “I’ll try better,” he promises. “But thank you.” 

There’s a soft shade of red across Rin’s cheeks, but Makoto knows better than to read too much into it. He still laughs anyway, falling into steps beside Rin as the latter grumbles about how he doesn’t understand people who say unnecessary things. 

\-----o0o----- 

A lot of their appearances on variety shows go like this: 

“So we’re going to ask you a question, and you guys are going to hold up the answer boards in your hand, ‘ _yes’_ or ‘ _no’_ ,” the male host tells them, and proceeds to pull a card out of the box on the table in the middle of the stage. “First question: Is it true that RaM are together?!” 

Laughter bursts out from the audience, drowning the high-pitched squeals from some girls at the back. Makoto laughs nervously, fingers gripping the small boards in each hand tighter. Rin is grinning almost mischievously, which means he’s probably up to no good. The female host has one hand on her mouth, stifling amused giggles, and Makoto kind of resents them for enjoying this situation a little too much. 

Then again, he’s probably the only one who doesn’t find it funny. He blames his crush on Rin. 

“Alright, so hold up your answer for this question in one, two, three!” 

Makoto holds up his left hand—a ‘ _no’_ —and the male host exclaims, “That’s a ‘ _no’_ —wait, a ‘ _yes’_?” 

Something in his stomach lurches, and Makoto turns sideways to see Rin holding up his right hand, the small board with ‘ **YES** ’ written in bold letters in his hand. His expression turns into one of a deer in the headlights, like he didn’t mean to hold that board up, like he meant to answer ‘no’ but somehow held up the wrong board. It’s perfect acting, even more so when Rin breathes out a bewildered, “Oh, shit—“ into the microphone, and everyone laughs. 

The male host, obviously, takes the chance. “What, Rin-kun, do you like Makoto-chan?” 

“Uh, well—“ the amount of hesitation, the little stammer on the last syllable. Everything is perfect. “Yeah. Yeah, I like him a lot.” 

It’s acting. Makoto knows. Fanservice. Rin is drawing out the stifled shrieks coming from the audience. But still, he feels heat slowly crawling up his face. 

“Your managers told us that you guys hang out together a lot, even outside of work? Don’t you guys get sick of each other?” 

“No, but that’s the thing. I want to be together with Makoto, more and more.” A sly look directed towards Makoto, a grin at the audience. Makoto tries to fight the blush down. “Just last night, we went out to eat ramen and, afterwards, went for a walk for an hour.” 

“For an hour? What are you guys doing, seriously!” More laughter, more screaming from the audience—that’s just how Rin plays it. “Is it true, Makoto-chan?” 

Of course it is. Except Rin didn’t bother to mention that they’d gone together with Haruka and Gou after Rei took Nagisa back to the office to do more paperwork. So Makoto lowers his face, bashful. “Um, yeah. Yeah, it’s true.” Then he laughs nervously, covering the lower half of his face with a hand. “Crap, this is embarrassing.” 

“So,” the female host says. “If one of you were a girl would you dat—“ 

“Yes.” Rin interrupts, and Makoto backpedals, wide-eyed looking at Rin. At the serious face he’s wearing, at the way Rin looks straight into the female host’s eyes. Damn it, Rin’s acting is flawless. “I’d date him.” 

The female host looks taken aback for a second, and the male host laughs loudly into his mic. “That’s—That’s a real quick answer, hahaha! What about you, Makoto-chan?” 

Makoto blinks up, doesn’t really know what answer he has to come up with, and ends up blurting out honestly, “Yeah, I would, too.” 

“Seriously? It’s Rin-kun, though, are you sure?” 

“Hey—“ Rin protests, laughing. “What’s _that_ suppose to mean—“ 

“He’s a serious person,” Makoto says, and if it comes out a little too honest, well, he’s off the edge already, might as well jump in. He didn’t expect Rin to turn away from him, one hand covering his mouth, and huh, Rin is blushing. Bright red across his cheeks, all the way to his ears and down to his neck. 

“Ooh, he’s blushing, how cute!” 

“Makoto-chan sure knows how to tease back, eh..” 

Rin still laughs, still jokes, still grins, but he doesn’t meet Makoto’s eyes for the remainder of the show. 

\----o0o---- 

Makoto learns fast though. He learns how to handle the crowds, how to disguise himself with the help of nearly nothing but scarves, hats and sunglasses, how to counter people’s jokes or flirt in front of the camera. But he’s not Rin, so he only does that when necessary, opting to duck his head bashfully or gesture childishly most of the times to avoid difficult questions. It’s easier that way; people would focus more on how he’s being cute (even though Makoto isn’t really sure what part of it is considered cute), especially when he has to appear solo on shows. 

Appearing solo has been happening more and more often lately, though. They get different roles for different dramas. Makoto has so many commercials offer and Rin gets to model on magazines a lot. With their schedules filling up, it’s pretty hard for them to hang out together as of late, and appearing as RaM instead as just Tachibana Makoto of Matsuoka Rin is getting rarer. 

But Makoto learns fast, so he’s been doing pretty well even when he has to appear solo on shows. 

“Why,” the host would jostle him from the side. “Makoto-chan hasn’t been saying anything much, has he? What’s in your mind, Makoto-chan?” 

And Makoto would duck his head bashfully, would let his arms flail in surprise for a moment before straightening, would grin shyly and answer along the line of: “Nah, you see—I’m alone today because Rin goes on vacation by himself. I hate it when Rin goes on vacation without me.” 

And the crowds would laugh and scream in that high-pitched tone that tells Makoto he is doing well. 

Then one day, he finds Haruka on the living room sofa with a cup of coffee, his full attention on the laptop on his lap. He’s reading something, and it looks really serious, so of course Makoto gets curious. Of course Makoto stops behind him and takes a peek from behind his shoulders. His eyes follow the first line Haruka is reading, word to word, and— 

(It says: _“Ahh, Rin,” Makoto groans, hips stuttering as the sensation becomes too much, and he comes with a shout._ ) 

Makoto chokes on a shriek. 

“Haru—why am I and Rin having sex?!” 

\-----o0o----- 

Gou looks at him blankly. 

“Why would you and Oniichan have sex?” she repeats, deadpan. Makoto throws his hands up, because sometimes he just wants to be done with the whole world. 

“Please don’t tell Rin,” he says miserably. He’s already unable to meet Rin in the eyes for more than two seconds after the incident—fanfictions, Haruka told him—and if Rin _knew_ , oh, he doesn’t think he could handle it being more awkward than this. “But I just—I don’t understand. Why are there girls out there writing about me and Rin having s-se—d-doing _it_?” 

For a second, Gou looks like she doesn’t know how to answer that. “Uh, because they find the both of you hot, and think that it’d be hotter if you guys were having sex?” She pauses, then makes a face. “You know, if it involves Oniichan, I don’t think I wanna know. He’s still my brother.” 

Makoto slumps on the table, ignoring Gou when she pats his head sympathetically. “But why?” 

“Why not?” 

“We’re both guys.” 

“Makoto-senpai, you came out to us a year ago.” 

“But Rin isn’t gay,” Makoto whines. “And it’s _Rin_.” 

“Huh? What—what’s wrong with Oniichan?” there’s the slightest offended tone in Gou’s voice. 

“It’s Rin. Rin—“ Makoto pauses. “Rin doesn’t even like me.” 

“What? Oniichan likes you, Makoto-senpai. He wouldn’t be your partner if he didn’t.” 

“No, I mean,” Makoto waves a hand vaguely. “He doesn’t like me that way.” He drops the hand, buries his face in his arms, scrunching up his face. “He doesn’t love me.” 

“Oh my god,” Gou whispers, paper thin and breathy. “Oh my god, Makoto-senpai. You—“ 

Makoto looks up in confusion, only to find Gou staring down at him in both disbelief and shock. His brain promptly rewinds the whole conversation, and he jerks up, eyes horrified as they meet Gou’s gaze. His mouth opens to say something, anything, but he ends up clamping is shut, jaws clacking. 

Gou’s mouth hangs open. “You’re…in love with Oniichan…?” 

“I have to go,” Makoto stutters, snatching his bag off the floor and literally flees, ignoring Gou’s call behind him. 

\-----o0o----- 

Their next single, _Kimi ga Boku ni Kiss o Shita_ , ranks fourth in Oricon Weekly. 

They are both paired with female actresses in the PV. Makoto gets to play a shy young man trying to woo his girl by following her shop around and taking care of her bags, while Rin gets to sit around in the kitchen cooking with his girl. There are lots of scenes where Makoto tries to hold the girl’s hand but chickens out in the end, and there are even many more of Rin gazing longingly at the girl as he tries to reach out. But the two gets kissed in the end, because that’s what the song is about, and Makoto finds himself relieved by the fact that they’re doing the PV shoot separately, so he doesn’t have to see Rin get kissed by a girl. If not, he thinks he’d probably do something irrational that would make Rin—the ever professional Rin—disappointed at him. 

Maybe later, when they look at the final result of the PV together, he can just look away and tries not to seem too upset, or something. 

“So,” Rin says, when they finally get some time for a jamming session together. “How was Uchida-san?” 

Makoto blinks. “Huh? She was—she was very nice? A good listener, too.” He frowns a little when a note goes flat. “What about her?” 

“You kissed her,” Rin shrugs. “She’s supposed to be one of the prettiest actresses, Makoto. Did you really feel nothing?” 

Makoto isn’t sure whether he should be embarrassed or offended by the question. “I’m not—you know I’m not into girls, Rin.” 

“Yeah, we’re all still so fucking young though,” Rin mutters, agile fingers running across the frets as he plays a series of fast keys, eyebrows knotting together. “And you looked like you really enjoyed it. Like you really adored her. In the PV, I mean.” 

Makoto makes a thoughtful noise. “I _do_ adore her, I think. She’s very nice. She brought me cookies on the second day of the shoot.” 

The next key that Rin plays jars the whole melody, and both of them flinch. Rin swears, fingers flying hastily to fix it. “Huh. Well—don’t get too attached to her, okay?” 

Makoto looks up, trying to find Rin’s eyes, but the redhead seems to be determined on glaring at his own guitar. “Why not?” 

Rin’s jaws work, like he’s struggling to say something, but then his whole figure deflates. His lips thin, and he turns a glare at Makoto. “ _Why not_? Come on, Makoto, if you get attached to a girl, you’ll get less fans! You know that. We can’t let something like that interfere with our career, idiot.” 

“Okay,” Makoto says simply, with a trace of laughter underlining his voice. He isn’t sure what riled Rin up like this, but he’s still adorable when he pretends to be mad. “And how was Kumiko-san, at your end? You guys seemed like you had a lot of fun. In the PV, I mean.” He adds, swallowing a chuckle when Rin directs an incredulous look at him. 

“She was okay,” Rin says. “A bit too—nosy, I guess. She means well, usually, but sometimes she forgot about personal space.” 

Makoto regrets asking immediately. “Doesn’t sound too bad.” 

“Mmm,” Rin agrees absently, stops tuning his guitar for a second, and looks up at Makoto. “What was that?” 

“What?” 

“That tone, just now. In your voice.” 

Makoto’s breath catches, but he’s learned how to wear masks, how to act like nothing’s wrong, how to avoid hard questions. And he’s good at lying, he’s always been. The smile stretches his lips naturally, face settling for a reassuring expression, voice softening. “No, I was just—thinking that it’s still better when it’s with Rin. The PV shoot.” 

Rin stares at him blankly for a second, then rolls his eyes and turns his back to Makoto, grumbling about people not knowing what a tease Makoto really is. Makoto chuckles and decides not to pursue the topic. 

He never sees the way a deep shade of red spread across Rin’s cheeks. 

\-----o0o----- 

He finds Haruka settling down on their couch with a hot chocolate and a laptop nearly every single night now, when all their works are finished and nobody has pressing matters to do. The two of them still lounge on the couch, pressed back-to-back comfortably, only less so now that Makoto is very much aware of his best friend reading fictions made by their fans, of the him and Rin having sex kind. 

“Haru,” he says awkwardly after the fifth time his fingers missed a key on the frets. It’s easy to lose concentration whenever Haruka draws a sharp breath or makes approving (or disapproving) noises under his breath. His reaction really depends on whether the story he read is good enough or not to his taste. “Don’t you ever feel—awkward, reading me and Rin doing… things, to each other?” 

“Sssh,” Haruka responds absently. “This is getting good.” 

Makoto sighs. “You know we aren’t like that.” 

 “This is—“ Haruka pauses, thoughtful. “This counts as a market research.” 

Makoto makes a doubtful face. “What kind of market research?” 

“Did you know that the most popular scenes of your PVs are the ones where the both of you were staring at each other while playing the guitar?” Haruka shoots back, like he’s stating a universal truth. “Also that Rin is the more popular bottom.” 

Makoto splutters. “Haru!” 

“Market research.” Haru repeats. “I can send you some if you want to have a look. I give Nagisa daily recommendations too.” 

“Send me—wait, what? Nagisa _reads_ _them_?” 

“Why do you think he’s been giggling whenever you so much as step into his office?” 

This isn’t a battle he could win, Makoto realizes, and consciously stamps down at the part of him that perked up when Haruka offered to recommend him some. He’s not going to read these things, he tells himself. Working with Rin is already more than enough fantasy fodder in itself, he doesn’t need it fueled only to make his life harder. 

The next day, as usual, Haruka mails him the day’s schedule. It’s pretty normal, not too packed, except that on the bottom of the mail, there’s an additional message the reads, “Try this one, this is cute,” and a single link blinking excitedly at him. 

Against his better judgment, Makoto opens it. 

And damn, Haruka was right, the fans are _good_ in what they do. Makoto finds himself sneaking a read whenever he gets a break from shooting his newest afternoon drama, and the fact that he doesn’t care about Haruka plastering a tiny smug smile on his face all day tells something about how bad he is engrossed in this. 

\-----o0o----- 

Sometimes Makoto isn’t sure how things escalate real fast. He tends to blame Nagisa about things like these, because really, everything usually starts with Nagisa. 

“We’re not doing this,” Rei says tersely as he strides into the office, Nagisa skipping in tow. Makoto and Rin both look up from the PV concept they’re examining, curiously following the producers’ steps. “This is crazy, Nagisa-kun, it is—“ 

“Going to be a hit,” Nagisa announces brightly, latching himself to Rei’s side once the taller man turns around to glare at him. “Come on, Rei-chan, imagine how beautiful it would be!” 

Rei pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face, but then he turns red and splutters. “It—it would be very beautiful, but—Nagisa-kun! You know what kind of image it would give—“ 

“Yeah, I know,” Nagisa chirps, way too cheerfully. “The fans would love it. You know they would, Rei-chan!” 

Rei throws up his hands. “I am not responsible for this.” 

“That’s okay, you’ll cover up for me if I mess up!” Nagisa tells him in stride, giggling as he lets go of Rei, who instantly buries his face in his palms. Nagisa rounds on his two stars on the couch. “Rin-chan, Mako-chan, get ready for a long photo shoot session, okay?” 

Makoto blinks. Rin looks up at Nagisa warily. “For what?” 

“For your first photobook, of course!” 

\-----o0o----- 

The photo shoot is— _intense_ , might be the right word to describe it. 

“That sounds rather indecent doesn’t i— _whoa!_ ” Makoto squeaks when Rin tackles him and he flails as he falls on top of Rin, splashing salt water everywhere. Rin laughs, and Makoto spends exactly five seconds to watch the muscles on Rin’s stomach move in the same beat, then blushes deep red. “Rin!” 

Rin rolls his eyes. “If I didn’t do that, we’d be here all day,” he points out, and Makoto stiffens as the redhead locks his legs around Makoto’s own. It’s a good thing the ocean is still cold at this time of the year, or a certain part of his anatomy would have gotten too excited at the touch. “Easier to just obey and follow what they want, Makoto. Learn to pick your battles, and all that jazz.” 

“That’s great, Mako-chan, Rin-chan! Hold that pose!” Nagisa is yelling, obviously thrilled. “Haru-chan, did you get that?” 

“If you didn’t get that, Haru, I’ll kill you! It’s freezing in here!” Rin shouts back, and grins when Haruka gives him a thumb up. 

“We’ll catch cold,” Makoto says desperately, glad that his elbows are already freezing in place and holding his weight, because if they weren’t, he’d be lying completely on top of Rin. That would make Nagisa and the others too happy. He glances towards the shoreline, where the rest of the group stands around Haruka, who fiddles with the camera and snaps more pictures. “Why aren’t we doing this photo shoot with a professional photographer?” 

“Nagisa wanted a more personal touch,” Rin shrugs. “Haru is good enough with cameras anyway.” He tugs on the lapels of Makoto’s now drenched white shirt. “You’re too tense, Makoto, relax. Or Haru won’t be able to get a good picture, and we’ll be ice statues by the time Nagisa is satisfied.” 

Makoto fights the heat rushing to his cheeks. “I—I know, it’s just—“ 

“That’s an OK!” Nagisa yells again, waving his hand for good measure. “Now can you two stand—yeah, that’s good—ah, Rin-chan, you should lean forward a little bit more—more, just, rest your chin on Mako-chan’s shoulder, yes that’s great! Mako-chan, put your arms around Rin-chan and pet him on the head, okay, and splash around a little—“ 

“What the everloving fuck,” Rin says, even as he rests his chin on Makoto’s shoulder, bare chest nearly pressing against Makoto’s. The taller boy gulps, forces his whole stance to relax and brings a hand up to tangle his fingers in Rin’s hair. He lets out a nervous laugh. “Well,” he says helplessly. “At least they seem to be having fun..?” 

“He keeps asking for fanservice-y poses, is he going to make a whole photo book out of these?” Rin makes a face, but quickly smooths it over when Haruka calls him out on it. He groans. “Fuck, it’s freezing. Why can’t we just have a more normal photoshoot location, like say, the friggin’ studio?” 

“Because Nagisa plans to release the photobook in August. Which means summer. And beach.” Makoto says, and against his better judgment, starts threading his fingers through Rin’s hair. It smells like lavender, calming and nice, and Makoto resists the urge to bury his face into the red strands. “Hey, your hair smells different. Did you change your shampoo?” 

“No, I used Gou’s. Mine ran out,” Rin replies, and Makoto nearly tightens his hold when he feels the minute shiver that runs through Rin’s body. They’re close—too close, and every nerve in Makoto’s body is screaming at him to back off before he does something he would forever regret. “It smells good, huh?” 

“I prefer your usual one,” Makoto chuckles nervously, hoping that it doesn’t sound any creepier than he felt saying it. “This one’s nice, but your usual one has a really fresh smell, it’s _really_ nice.” 

Rin splashes the back of his head. “It fucking better be. I paid good money for that.” 

 “Okay, guys, now can you sit down?” Nagisa is yelling again, and Makoto has to pry his fingers off Rin’s hair, hating every second of it. He wants to spend an eternity burying and smushing his fingers through the red strands, and god, that sounds so dumb, he sounds like a fourteen year-old with a massive crush on his classmate. “Rin-chan, pull your right knee up, that’s right, Mako-chan, settle down between Rin’s legs okay—“ 

“What?!” Makoto splutters. Rin sighs and pulls him down. Haruka gives him two thumbs up. 

“Ah, that’s great, Rin-chan! Mako-chan, can you lean in more, yeah, like that, a bit closer, look at each other, okay—“ 

“You know,” Rin says nonchalantly, his breath falling on Makoto’s nose. “You might as well just kiss me. Nagisa would be very happy.” 

“Don’t joke around,” Makoto says helplessly, ignoring the sudden ache of longing in his chest. Rin gives him a rogue grin. 

“Mako-chan, you look constipated, don’t make that face! Smile, you two, smile!” 

\-----o0o----- 

Their popularity is raising. They get nominated for best newcomers category in three different awards and win two of them. Their song _Boku no Kimochi_ ranks second in Oricon Weekly and holds the place for three consecutive weeks before making its way to the first. Their first concert is held at SHIBUYA-AX Concert Hall, and the tickets are sold out in half a day. Their first album snags the first rank of Oricon Monthly. Their official fan club gathers more and more members every day, their official merchandise brings a lot of money that makes even Rei grins like a loon, and added to the profit from Mikoshiba, Nagisa is finally able to rent a new place for their agency office. 

There’s a huge buzz across the country about them; Makoto can barely go out to the convenience store without encountering a paparazzi on his way and Rin has to change his jogging route every day to avoid stalkers. Rei considers hiring bodyguards for them, which is where Makoto puts his feet down and says a firm no, so Nagisa arranges for them to have martial arts lessons. 

“Haru-chan and Gou-chan should come, too,” the blond says in a rare moment of seriousness. “Everyone should be able to defend themselves, when push comes to shove.” 

It’s not a bad idea, Makoto thinks, and it gives him more time to spend with Rin that isn’t about work. Their private judo instructor is a petite woman goes by the name of Amakata Miho, and despite the way she spouts random, rather senseless quotes by various figures of history, she’s able to throw Makoto over her shoulder on their first meeting. 

“Oh, don’t be so tense,” she laughs behind a hand. “I’m still learning myself, but I can definitely teach you to do better than what I did just now, so let’s start from the basics, shall we?” 

It isn’t surprising at all that Gou and Ama-chan—that’s how Nagisa called her the first time she was introduced, and she didn’t seem to mind—hit it off right away. Perhaps it’s the lack of female presence in their circle, or perhaps it’s the way Ama-chan indulges Gou when she whines about her brother and RaM and everything in general (a lot of times, Makoto finds out, it’s about Mikoshiba, and he wonders if he should tell Rin about it, except he doesn’t think he should make Gou her enemy, so he doesn’t tell anyone, in the end.) 

About a month after their judo lessons begin, Mikoshiba comes to join them, much to Rin’s chagrin. Makoto doesn’t think anyone misses the way Gou turns a little brighter, a little cheerful, even as she enthusiastically learns how to strangle Mikoshiba. 

\-----o0o----- 

There are things that should not be taken out of context, and they are things that would make Makoto’s life easier. 

Like, for example, Haruka and Gou’s conversation in the middle of their judo class. 

“Oooh, Oniichan’s gonna be the _uke_ ,” Gou says when Ama-chan calls Rin and Makoto onto the mats and tells Makoto to throw Rin. And then she dissolves into giggles when Makoto nearly chokes at her words, but Rin just turns at them and raises an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing,” Haruka answers smoothly, with not the slightest twitch on his face. “I told Gou that there are a lot of fans who likes you to be the _uke_.” 

Gou bursts out laughing. When Rin directs a puzzled look his way, Makoto ducks his head and shrugs. He’s pretty sure his face is even redder than Mikoshiba’s hair. 

\-----o0o-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Whooops completely forgot to mention this one little thing. Japanese martial arts use the term uke (受け) to describe a person who receives a technique a.k.a the person who attacks first and consequently being thrown/pinned/whathaveyous. The term uke in BL also have the same character (受け), because, you know, the activity is the same, they "receive" /winkswinks but yeah, totally different context. The more you know~~


	3. 5 CM Per Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry this takes so long, life is currently eating me. And so, here comes more drama for this fic.
> 
> (Also I'm just going to promote here too, don't forget we have the [MakoRin Valentine Fiesta](http://marine-abyss.tumblr.com/post/73296488195/makorin-valentine-fiesta-2014) going on from January 14th to February 14th! And then there's also the low-pressure, low-stress gift-giving festival: [Iwatobi White Day](http://iwatobiwhiteday.tumblr.com/post/73289635205/iwatobi-white-day-2014-is-a), open for the whole Free!dom in the spirit of sharing, so don't forget to check them too, guys!)

Inspiration, Makoto thinks, is a weird thing. It comes at the weirdest of times, and refuses to even drop by when he desperately needs it. Most of the times it comes when he’s in the middle of a performance or work, sometimes it comes when he’s dozing in the car or the train or when he is taking a dump. 

He keeps a small notebook to write them down. It’s like a race with his own mind, sometimes; he’d be posing for a photo shoot and a random melody would make its way into his head, and he’d try to keep humming it before he forgets it completely. Haruka once takes a look at his notebook, flips a few pages and then returns it to him with a puzzled look, and comments that everything in it looks like they’re in codes. 

They really aren’t, though. It’s just jumbled phrases and notes, random short comments on whatever he needs to work on. A string of guitar keys jotted down quickly, words that he thinks would sound good for lyrics, numbers that signifies notes or pitches, or a reminder that he needs to work on a particular song.  There are sentences that ends abruptly ( _with a hundred yen, I wish for you to fin-_ or _that this is where we belo-_ or and _I keep seeing red, perhaps because it’s the color of your hai-_ ), and if he’s lucky, sometimes he’d get to write a full verse before someone else calls him for work. 

“The speed at which cherry blossom petals fall,” Rin murmurs when they settles in the living room of Makoto and Haruka’s apartment for their rare movie nights; Gou’s half-buried under arm pillows and blankets on the floor, Nagisa lounging on the lazy chair with Rei on the floor leaning his back against Nagisa’s legs, Mikoshiba putting the second movie of the night into the DVD, Haruka burrowing even further into the couch, and Makoto sits next to him with his knees pressing against Rin’s thigh, too comfortable to move. “Five centimeters per second.” 

“Ooh, you’ve watched this one, Matsuoka?” Mikoshiba eyes him in interest. “Didn’t peg you for a romantic.” 

Gou snorts openly, and Haruka covers his own with an abrupt cough. Rin scowls at them. 

“I haven’t watched it,” Makoto says, only to have the rest of them giving him looks of disbelief. “Eh? I’m the only one? Is it that good?”

“It captures the beauty of pain and reality,” Rei sighs almost dreamily. “The story-telling is exceptional, if a bit slow, but the narration and monologues will wreck you.” 

“Huh,” Makoto nods. “And it has something to do with the speed of cherry blossom petals falling?” 

“First one to cry treats everyone to yakiniku this Sunday!” Nagisa says brightly. 

“Five centimeters per second,” Rin murmurs again, and Makoto isn’t sure if he’s repeating the phrase or reading the title of the movie out loud, but he likes the way those words fall from Rin’s lips. He ends up being the first one to shed tears, which Nagisa points out in glee, but Rei is silently rubbing his eyes not a minute later, so Makoto feels better about the whole thing. 

Later that night, he opens the notebook and writes down **_5 CM_** in the middle of an empty page in bold, huge letters. He stares at it, not quite sure how he’s going to write something out of it, but knowing that he wants to, anyway. 

The page stays empty except for the two words for a long time. 

**\-----o0o-----**

RaM’s initial buzz, as expected, settles down gradually. Job offers are still coming, but the amount isn’t as insane as it used to be. They have established a loyal fan base, Nagisa explains, and that’s what’s most important. Makoto is rather glad, though, because now he can focus back on his and Rin’s music. He gets to spend more time sitting around in the living room with Rin, fiddling with guitars and music sheets, with Haruka and Gou throwing occasional suggestions their way. 

It’s nice. 

Then Makoto gets an offer for a role in a historical drama, and Gou manages to get Rin his own show in a national TV, and seeing each other once a week becomes a miracle. 

**\-----o0o-----**

He stares at the schedule Haruka sends him. 

“Nothing for RaM this week?” 

“Rei declined.” Haruka murmurs, eyes intent on his laptop screen as his fingers fly across the keyboard. “Your workload this week is already insane. So is Rin’s.” 

“Okay,” Makoto says, because it’s normal in their line of work. He misses Rin already, a little—misses his grins and voice and the look on Rin’s face when he’s immersed in music. He thinks he always misses Rin a little, even if Rin is right next to him. “I was just looking forward to writing some songs with him.” 

Haruka’s fingers pause. He peers up at Makoto. “Want me to squeeze it in?” 

“Nah,” Makoto smiles. “Rin’s probably going to be tired, too.” 

They’d have time for it later, he thinks. 

**\-----o0o-----**

The only time he gets to see Rin that week is when he and Haruka have just come back to the office, and Rin and Gou are just about to step out for an interview appointment. 

“Oi, Haru,” Rin says, dangling his cell phone right in front of the older man’s face with an exasperated look. “How did this even get out to public?” 

Makoto has to bend down a little to get a good look of Rin’s cell screen. It’s an old picture of him and Rin, piling on the couch in his old apartment, exhaustion clear on their face, limbs tangling and guitars abandoned just off to the side. It’s a picture Gou had taken for laugh using Haruka’s camera back then. It is also on Twitter now, getting thousands of retweets and favorites. 

Haru keeps a straight face. “It’s part of marketing strategy.” 

From somewhere in the office, Nagisa’s voice echoes, “Approved by your producers!” 

**\-----o0o-----**

Makoto goes to Hokkaido for the filming, and when he comes back, Rin’s gone off to Kyuushu for a variety show. 

His cell phone rings at three in the morning, just as he and Haruka steps into their apartment. Rin’s name blinks on the screen, and Haruka gives him an encouraging nudge before face-planting onto the couch. 

Makoto chuckles and answers. “Hello.” 

“Hey. Gou told me you’d be back around three, figured I should call before you sleep like the dead.” Rin’s voice takes an amused edge. “Or not. You don’t sound sleepy.” 

“I drank too much coffee,” Makoto admits, padding over to the couch to nudge Haruka. “Haru, come on, don’t sleep here. At least take off your suit.” 

Rin laughs in his ear. “This is why we keep forgetting that Haru is your manager.” 

“Says someone who gets all protective on his manager.” 

“She’s my sister.” 

“Haru’s _our_ best friend.” 

“Fine,” Rin grouses, but there’s laughter in his voice. It’s a nice sound, and Makoto is just glad Rin is in a good mood. “My shoot starts in ten minutes, so I can’t talk long. Did Nagisa tell you about our next mini-album release?” 

“Yeah, we still need to write a new song for that.” Makoto pauses, and then backpedals. “Why do you have a shoot at three in the morning?” 

“This variety show is about challenges, and we’re having a—uh, hide and seek challenge? Of some sort. At three in the morning so we can use the streets. You know how weird these shows get.” 

“But Rin always gets really excited to win weird challenges on said shows.” 

“Shut up, I just don’t like losing.” Rin pauses, and there’s another muffled voice filtering through the phone, talking about schedules and routes and camera technicalities. He listens to Rin responding to the voice in low murmur, imagines Rin in training pants and sweaters, hair tousled as he tilts his head to listen to the staff. He misses Rin, he always misses Rin, and Makoto thinks, _I miss you, I want to see you—_  

“So,” Rin says, and for some reason he sounds softer this time. “Next week, clear up a spot in your schedule?” 

“We’ll write it together,” Makoto agrees. “I’ll see you then. You’ll bring the first prize home, right?” 

“Damn right, Tachibana.” And there it is, Rin’s smug confidence. Makoto loves everything about it. “Get some sleep, you oaf. Bye.” 

“Bye,” Makoto echoes, and listens to the tone long after Rin hangs up, until Haruka rouses and blinks up at him sleepily. 

**\------o0o-----**

Weeks later, the song is still not done. 

“This is crap,” Rin mutters angrily as he crumples the music sheet he’s holding and chucks it in the general direction of the trash can. Makoto watches it missed, dismayed because that’s what they’ve been working on for the last three weeks, in the rare times they could see each other and work on their songs. “Scrap everything off, Makoto, we’re starting from scratch.” 

“I don’t know,” Makoto says, annoyance nagging in the back of his mind. He’s exhausted, and he knows Rin is too, and they’re both frustrated because Rei told them they’ve only got two weeks tops to come up with a new song or they’d have to resort to asking another professional to do it. But the one Rin’s just thrown away was decent in his opinion; they could have polished it a little. “That one was pretty good to me.” 

Rin glares. “What is _wrong_ with you, that crap sounds monotonous, have you _played_ it?” 

Makoto takes a deep breath, reminding himself not to take the bait or everything would spiral down. “That crap,” he repeats, “Is what we’ve been working on for three weeks, Rin—“ 

Rin snorts. “We worked on that shit _four_ times, Makoto. How many times did you think _you_ have the chance to see me properly to work on—“ 

And that stings, and for a second Makoto has to breathe through the wave of anger crashing on him so suddenly he isn’t sure where it comes from. “That’s not fair. Both of us had been busy; you have your show, and you’re the one who’s taking that CM job offer.” 

“I took it,” Rin hisses, “Because your schedule is ridiculously full with that drama shoot, and I have time to spare in which I’m not doing anything anyway because you’re not there to brainstorm with me for our new song!” 

Normally, Makoto wouldn’t let Rin’s temper get the better of his own. Normally, Makoto never rises to the bait. But tonight is not _normally_. Tonight, he is unbelievably exhausted and he still has to memorize the script for the 28 th episode and he honestly hates the fact that he hadn’t seen Rin for more than a week, and Rin is acting like a goddamn child who blames everyone for a homework he can’t understand. 

“That’s no reason to throw away what we’ve worked on.” His voice lowers, the way it always does when he is angry. “You should know it best, Rin. That every single song, even if they’re unfinished, has something more. It has potential, pieces of us we’ve put in there. If you can’t appreciate that? Might as well give everything to the professionals.” 

Rin’s glare meets his own tensed eyes, none of them backing down, and for a second, Makoto is sure Rin is about to hit him. But then Rin makes a ‘ _tch’_ sound, snagging his notebook and pen and some of the music sheets, and rises to his feet. The edge of his guitar bumps against Makoto’s shoulder harshly in a childish gesture as Rin stomps towards the front door. 

“Gou, I’m going home!” 

“What--?” Gou’s voice comes from the kitchen, where she and Haruka had disappeared into half an hour ago for tea. Rin answers back with a growl, and Makoto doesn’t turn even as he hears the door being wrenched open and slammed back closed. 

The hurried footsteps come from the kitchen, Haruka and Gou entering the corner of Makoto’s vision. “What happened?” 

Makoto takes a deep breath, exhaling carefully, silently willing his anger to fade. He doesn’t answer. 

Gou stares at him with concerned eyes, and then she turns to Haruka. “I should probably—I’d better, you know, catch up. With Oniichan.” 

Haruka nods. “Go.” 

“Thank you for tonight,” Gou says, and there’s hesitation in her gesture when she bows at Makoto. “Then, Makoto-senpai, I’ll see you.” 

She’s gone in a flurry of motions, snatching her bag from the couch and some documents from the table before hastily putting on her shoes and darting out, closing the door softly behind her. Makoto stays silent, doesn’t even move, even when Haruka picks up the crumpled paper Rin previously threw away,  crouches before him and catches his eyes. 

“You do realize that tomorrow you guys have to appear in _Music Champ_ together, right?” 

Makoto groans. 

(Later that night, when he can’t get a blink of sleep, he grabs his notebook and writes down on a random page: _I don’t have the confidence to pull off love, work, friendship and everything_.) 

**\-----o0o-----**

The next day, Rin still grins, still jokes, still laughs the way he always does in front of the camera. 

He doesn’t flirt, and Makoto is surprised to find himself largely disappointed. 

“Why don’t you tell us about your song?” the host says, gesturing to Rin to answer. “ _Boku no Kimochi_ was largely popular, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it was a soundtrack for a movie,” Rin answers, smooth and easy. “I was surprised it got really popular, it’s probably thanks to the movie, though. It was a really inspiring movie, I nearly cried when I went to watch it!” 

Amidst the laughter filling the studio, Makoto swallows a bitter bile in his throat—they’d gone together to watch that movie, and normally Rin would use that to flirt. He’d tell people ‘ _we went to watch it_ ’ instead of just ‘I _went to watch it_ ’. 

“You were paired with the same actresses that helped you with _Kimi ga Boku ni Kiss o Shita_ PV, weren’t you?” 

“Oh, Uchida-san and Kumiko-san! Yes, it was awesome to work with them again. Kumiko-san was a big help actually, I used to bounce off ideas with her, like the things we should do in the PV, whether or not we should hold hands and if she’d let me kiss her again.” That draws another string of laughter from the audience, and Rin grins. “Oh, sorry, did I sound like a pervert just now?” 

“That’s okay, Rin-kun, everyone knows you are,” the host chuckles, and Rin makes a mock-affronted noise. Makoto forces a tight smile when he realizes the camera is sweeping the whole stage, but it feels frozen, it isn’t right. He’s supposed to be better at lying, he’s now an _actor_ , for god’s sake— 

“—and Makoto-chan wrote the lyrics?” 

“We wrote it together, but Makoto got a lot of great ideas that time so we went with his ideas a lot for that song.” Rin answers, but it sounds flat this time, like he isn’t interested in talking about it. “I took over the parts for the melody, though, so it’s even I guess.” 

“Great ideas?” the host perks up, turning to Makoto. “Now, I wonder what were you thinking about when you wrote the lyrics, Makoto-chan? Or rather,” he pauses to give Makoto a teasing look. “Who?” 

And as usual, like every time he is asked about things like this, Makoto ducks his head bashfully and smiles. For a second, he considers lying through his teeth and telling people about the cat he likes to play with near his apartment, but then he thinks about the fans writing about him and Rin being together, thinks about how hard it has been for him to put on an act tonight, thinks about how Rin isn’t flirting and how his own feelings have left him fumbling for the last two years. 

And then he says, “I was thinking about Rin, actually.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and then the more familiar strained squealing of girls in the audience. Makoto watches the lines of Rin’s body tense from the corner of his eyes, and continues. “Between the two of us, Rin is really, um, more the romantic one. Like, when we watch a movie together, sometimes he comments on the lead male dialogues and comes up with more romantic lines. So that’s what I thought about, when we wrote the lyric.” He makes a vague waving gesture, like he’s anxious. “So the lines like, ‘ _My wish is for you to smile_ ,’ and ‘ _I want to go towards the same future together with you_ ,’—those are what I imagined Rin would say.” 

“Wait, you’re telling us that your ‘great ideas’ are actually the things Rin-kun said when you watch a movie?” 

“Eehh, that’s pretty much it, I think.” 

“That is a lie,” Rin cuts in, but his face is red. “That’s is a huge lie, Makoto, what are you doing telling lies—“ 

“Ah,” Makoto smiles, because he finally gets Rin to talk to him. “But when we watched _Byousoku 5 cm_ , even though you’ve watched it before, you were almost yelling at the TV telling the main character to tell his girl ‘ _I want to protect you_.’” 

“Oooh, isn’t this an unexpected side of Rin-kun! What a romantic!” 

For a moment, there, Makoto thinks they’re okay. Rin’s laughter comes easier, now, and he turns at Makoto from time to time, bouncing off questions and answers, and the show ends in a fun note. There’s a sharp relief curling in his stomach as everyone thanks each other for a job well done, and Makoto jogs up to where Rin is walking off the stage, a smile already plastered on his face and Rin’s name on the tip of his tongue. 

Except Rin only spares him an annoyed glance and never stops walking. 

Makoto stops, the relief churning into hurt between his chest and his stomach as he watches Rin walks out of the studio. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Two mornings later, he wakes up to the sounds of Haruka talking into the phone, and realizes that he’d fallen asleep on the couch while hugging his guitar and his notebook. 

(He remembers hazily about writing down disjointed words: _your selfishness_ and _my feelings for you haven’t moved a millimeter_ and _I need you_ and _these feelings keep growing_ and _what do I do now?_ ) 

“No, that’s not going to work.” Haruka is typing away in his laptop and has his stern voice on, and Makoto watches as the dark-haired man frowns slightly. Whoever it is on the other end of the line must be rather stubborn. “Then shove him in, if it comes to that.” 

There’s a incorrigible response that is distinctly female, but Makoto isn’t awake enough to even try to guess who it is. Haruka closes his laptop and reaches for his agenda on the table. “I’ll take care of that,” he says, and catches Makoto’s eyes when he does so, blinking for a second and mouths ‘ _morning’_ at him. Makoto gives him a sleepy smile. “That’s good. Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” 

“Who’s that,” Makoto asks, except it comes out like _whozza’_ because his brain isn’t awake enough to form a full sentence. But apparently it’s enough for Haruka to get what he means, because he answers curtly, “Reika-san asked for an interview with you and Rin.” 

“Oh,” Makoto shifts and sits up, carefully putting his guitar down onto the floor and yawns widely. Haruka gestures to the cup of coffee on the table, which Makoto takes gratefully. When it’s drained and the higher function of his brain comes back, Makoto offers his best friend a sheepish smile. “Sorry I woke up late. Did you make coffee yourself, Haru?” 

“I had to, you were out cold.” Haruka snits, but Makoto laughs because he recognizes the mock-petulant tone in Haruka’s voice. “I sent your schedule for today.” 

“And as usual, thank you,” Makoto says warmly, reaching his phone to check his mail. Haruka’s name blinks at him when he slides his fingers across the screen, opening his mail. He touches the subject, brings up the usual time-table Haruka sends him every day. His first job is at ten o’clock, and it’s— 

“A solo photo shoot?” 

“Rei insisted,” Haruka shrugs. “I won’t be there with you though, Nagisa told me to come over to the office.” 

“He probably wants someone to go eat ice cream with,” Makoto chuckles. “Okay, I’ll just meet you later?” 

“Yeah. There’s a newly opened café near the Shinjuku station.” 

“For lunch, then,” Makoto agrees, then gets up and staggers to the bathroom. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Except when it’s lunch time, Haruka doesn’t come. 

Instead it’s Rin, lugging his guitar like it weighs a ton. Makoto doesn’t even notice him at first, too busy scribbling lyrics onto a page of his notebook, still trying to salvage what they’ve been working for three weeks, until Rin stands next to the seat in front of him with a sour look on his face. 

Makoto looks up, eyes following Rin as he throws himself onto the chair across Makoto’s. He doesn’t say anything, because if Rin is still angry, there’s nothing Makoto can say to dampen his temper anyway. Instead he waits, turning his attention back to the words he’s writing. 

Rin doesn’t say anything, either. 

In the end, Rin makes a frustrated noise and rises to his feet, hefting his guitar and stomps away and out of the café. Makoto freezes, listens to the chime jingling as Rin passes the door, and feels the wave of regret and helplessness crashing down on him. He breathes through it, ignores the way his eyes prickle and swallows back the bile in his throat. 

He rips off the page he’s been writing on, crumples it and throws it back onto the table, where it bounces once and hits his glass of milkshake. Makoto stares at the crumpled paper bitterly, stands up and leaves. 

If Rin doesn’t care about their music anymore, he thinks angrily, then he won’t care either. 

**\-----o0o-----**

It isn’t until half an hour later that Makoto realizes he’d written one of his favorite lines onto the paper he’d torn off the notebook and crumpled and left in the café earlier. 

He rewrites the line down onto the notebook: _my feelings for you have no place to go_ , but he can no longer remember what goes before and after the line. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Nagisa peers up at him, and Makoto regards him with a small smile. 

“You look tired, Mako-chan,” he chirps, leaning forward to get a better look at his friend. “Oooh, look, are those eye bags? Tsk, tsk, Mako-chan, I know you and Rin-chan are very happy together, but you shouldn’t let more strenuous activities eat into your sleep schedule! Sleep is important!” 

Makoto splutters, heat rushing to his face so fast he thinks he gets a little dizzy. “What? Nagisa, you can’t—you know it’s not like that!” 

Nagisa blinks, eyes wide and overall a perfect embodiment of innocence. “It’s not?” 

Makoto gives him a look. The blond actually _giggles_. “Aww, Mako-chan, it’s okay. You know what they say; fighting makes relationships stronger!” He pats Makoto’s forearm firmly, and then shoves a pair of sunglasses against Makoto’s chest. “But seriously though, you should pay more attention to eye bags. You’re gonna give the paparazzi a party.” 

“I can always blame the management,” Makoto counters half-heartedly, and Nagisa pointedly laughs at him because blaming the management means blaming Haruka and if there’s anything Makoto can’t ever do, it’s putting Haruka in tight situations. Rei passes the two of them and pauses to drag Nagisa back to their desks where the paperwork’s now ever present, but even he throws Makoto a sympathetic look. 

“It’s okay to leave one song or two to the professionals if you can’t make it, Makoto-san,” Rei says. “Everyone does that. It’s their job, and if we don’t like it, we can always ask them to make another—“ 

“It’s not okay,” Makoto cuts him, the words coming out in a rather harsh note, and guilt immediately hits him when Rei’s face tightens. “I’m sorry, I mean—“ he takes a breath, forces a small smile, tries not to think about how the corners of his lips tremble. “It’s just—it’s our music. We have to work on it ourselves. Even if the professionals could probably do better than us, it’s just… it’s not the same, Rei.” 

Rei nods slowly, thoughtful this time. “Should we push back the release date, then?” 

Nagisa makes a face. “We can’t. Rin-chan’s already taken the solo offer from Queen’s, remember? If we pushed back RaM’s release date, it’ll be around the same time as Rin-chan’s first solo single—“ 

Makoto’s whole world stops. 

“What,” he says, except it comes out weak and shaky, and Nagisa goes pale even as Rei hisses his name in a warning tone. For a second, Makoto’s world turns into a tableau of chaos, where shapes and colors mesh into things he can’t understand, and Nagisa’s words rings hard in his ears: _Rin’s first solo single_. 

Solo single. 

It’s not—unusual. It happens, and Makoto thinks at one point or another in his life since they made their debut, he’s probably been expecting it. Rin’s voice is flawless, a tenor that shoots right into people’s hearts and wraps around them, and Rin’s always been the more popular between them. Of course Rin would get a solo offer. And of course Rin would accept; it’s his dream to be a famous idol after all, there’s no reason to reject a solo offer from a major label, and it’s not like he’s leaving RaM completely— 

 _But that’s how it usually starts, isn’t it? A member of a group releasing a solo single, and then everything slowly falls apart._  

No, that’s irrational. That’s not—Rin wouldn’t. Rin wouldn’t. 

“Mako-chan,” he dimly hears Nagisa, thinks there’s something about the pleading note underlining the blond’s voice. “Mako-chan, it’s really only just been decided. He was going to tell you, I swear—“ 

“I’m,” Makoto says, and he wonders why his voice sounds so far away. “Going—home. Work’s done, so—Rei, could you please tell Haru?” 

“Makoto-san,” Rei begins, but Makoto jams the sunglasses on his face and turns away. 

He dials Rin’s number halfway to his apartment. His cell beeps an out-of-area response, and for the first time in months, Makoto finally stops and realizes: _I can’t reach him._  

**\-----o0o-----**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (What, you haven't watched Byousoku 5 cm? D: You're missing out! Go look and watch!)


	4. Yume no Tochuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings galore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not supposed to be so long. Not at all. I hate myself, I had to break this chapter into two, and I don't even know what I'm writing anymore. /sobs
> 
> I just wish you guys are still enjoying this.

Haruka looks straight at him, the corners of his mouth tight and turning downwards ever-so-slightly. That’s basically how Rin knows that the dark-haired man isn’t pleased.

“You two aren’t children.”

Rin groans. _I know_ , he wants to say, but his mouth remains clamped shut exactly because he is a child. He knows it’s a vain effort—this method might work times and again to Makoto, but it won’t work to Haruka. His best friend would wait in silence instead, eyes never leaving Rin’s figure, and eventually Rin’s always been the one to cave in and speak up.

“What was I supposed to do?” he grumbles in the end, watching the ice cubes in his glass of iced coffee clink against each other when he swirls the glass. “I was going to tell him, but he didn’t even glance at me. He just—he just kept pointedly writing the goddamn lyrics to that music—he knows it’s fucking unsalvageable!”

Haruka stares at him impassively.

“It’s not like I want to give everything to the professionals,” he continues, each word tense as he recalls the night he and Makoto argued. “But that thing wasn’t our best. We’ve always given our best for our music, you know that, Haru. The fact that Makoto’s willing to throw less than our best out there for our fans—I can’t accept that.”

“You could’ve told him that instead of running away.” Haruka points out.

Rin snorts. “He didn’t even _look_ at me.”

“You know how he gets defensive about himself, sometimes.” Haruka pauses, brings his cup of coffee to his lips and sips. When he puts it down, his eyes are cast down, and that surprises Rin a little, because Haruka never takes his eyes off whoever it is he’s confronting.

“What?” Rin prompts, not having enough patience for any hesitance from the older man.

Haruka takes a careful breath. “I’m not taking sides,” he says, slowly and carefully, and now his eyes find their way back to Rin’s. “You’re both my best friends. You’ve both worked so hard for RaM, and I’m,” Haruka hesitates again, but this time he ploughs through. “I’m proud of you both.”

Rin tries stomping on the part of him feeling flattered by Haruka’s words to no avail. He resorts to averting his eyes from Haruka’s instead, finding the weird brown stain on the walls on his side more interesting for some reason.

“You know I’m not going to say anything if it wasn’t because of you taking the solo offer,” Haruka says. “You guys argue on your music all the time—never got as bad as this one, but eventually I know you guys would solve it. But your solo offer, Rin.”

Rin clicks his tongue. “It’s important.”

“I know. I’m still miffed that you won’t even tell me about the details, but at least you told me about getting a solo offer.” A waitress passes by, turning to their table with a beaming smile, and for a second Rin thought he’s been recognized. He worries the tips of the wig he’s wearing for the few moments Haruka and the waitress exchange pleasantries—“Are you enjoying your lunch? Anything else I could get you?” and Haruka’s answers in mere nods and shakes of his head—until the waitress skips away.

Haruka’s eyes turn to him again. “Tell Makoto.”

“I tried.”

“Rin.” Haruka says, sounding tensed this time. “There are groups who had broken up for less of a reason than this.”

Rin’s head snaps up so fast he thinks he might have dislocated something in his neck. “What? No, we’re not going to—fuck, Haru, we might be fighting, but it’s not—“

He’s cut off by a loud chiming noise he’s set as Gou’s message tone. The two of them freeze for a second, even as Gou’s voice echoes to the corners of the café: _“Oniichan! Oniichan, read my message! If you don’t read it, I’m going to call Mikoshiba-san and ask him out for a date, Onii—“_

Rin fumbles with his phone and silences the device hastily. By the time he looks up, though, the rest of the café is looking his way, and Haruka stares blankly at him.

He sinks further into his seat. “I forgot to set my phone on silent.”

“That’s Gou’s message tone?”

“She gets extremely angry when I tried to change it once.” Rin shrugs. “It makes sure I go straight to read her message even when I’m busy on the set or something—shut up, I just got out of the photoshoot, I forgot to set this on silent is all—“

“Let her go out with Mikoshiba-san.”

“Over my dead body,” Rin grumbles, brings his phone up to his face to open Gou’s message. The subject consists of at least ten exclamation marks and a panicking cat emoticon. The message’s short, just three lines of words and cute emoticons, and—

 _Shit_.

“What?” Haruka says, because apparently Rin’s said that out loud. He lets his eyes fall back to the first word of the message and read it through once again, holding a tiny hope that he’d misunderstood his sister’s message, but no such luck.

“Makoto knows,” and there’s a defeated tone in his voice now. Rin wants to sink into his chair forever. “He knows—fuck, he’s going to be so mad—“

Haruka’s expression barely changes, but the downward turn of his lips become more prominent. “He won’t. He’d be upset.” He pauses, eyebrows knitting ever-so-slightly now. “Rin. Talk to him.”

“He’s going to have _ideas_ in his head now, Haru. Anything I come up with wouldn’t make him fret less—“

“Then make it a song.” Haruka says. “You still need one, anyway. For the single.”

Rin stops. Opens his mouth. Clamps it shut again.

“Huh,” he says. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”

**\-----o0o-----**

Haruka comes home to Makoto plucking his guitar on the couch, playing the familiar tune of the song Makoto never finishes, over and over and over again like he doesn’t know how to end it.

Makoto looks up, sees Haruka standing by the door, and offers a small smile.

“Haru.”

He waits for Haruka to step in and close the door, waits for Haruka to throw his keys on the nearest surface and slip into his slippers, waits for Haruka to pads down softly and settle down on his back. He keeps playing, keeps plucking the disjointed melody made of his happiest memories—but his playing is awful tonight, he knows it, he just doesn’t bother to stop and make it better, because he isn’t feeling better himself.

Haruka stays quiet, until Makoto’s finger catches on a string and the melody jars. He winces, a palm closing over the frets to stop the noise. Silence fell so suddenly in their apartment that it felt a little eerie.

Then Haruka says, “Fix it.”

Makoto doesn’t know whether Haruka means his playing tonight, or his unfinished song, or his relationship with Rin. He doesn’t know, but he smiles anyway, and nods.

Haruka gives him a long look.

His notebook is filled with lines and lines of aborted lyrics that night, most of them crossed out under thick scrawls, and on the lower right corner of the last page, a lone line is scribbled, strokes thicker and somehow angrier:

_We’ve lost track of our goal._

He buries his face into the notebook, thinking of Rin’s fingers on the guitar, of Rin’s bright, excited eyes as he plucks on the strings trying to make tunes, of Rin’s dream of being an idol, and god, how selfish would Makoto be if he got angry over Rin’s solo debut? He’s not even jealous, he’s just—scared.

He’s always been the biggest coward out of everyone, in everything.

**\------o0o-----**

“Nothing for RaM today,” Haruka tells him the next morning. “Rin’s gone to Okinawa for the variety show. Three weeks.”

Three weeks. Makoto looks down at the notebook in his hand, remembers the words _solo offer_ , and says, “Didn’t you say there was an audition offer for voice-acting?”

**\-----o0o-----**

Their debut song, _Hava Rava_ , greets his ears when Makoto and Haruka get into the agency car. Hanamura Chigusa grins at him as she grips the wheel and swerves the car off the parking lot, her head cheerfully bobbing up and down to the beat.

“I can’t believe the radio still plays this song,” Makoto comments, because it’s somehow awkward to see someone else listening to their music, to their voices and tunes. He still gets flustered most of the times, because it was one thing to see Haruka and the others listen to their songs, and another to see people outside their circle enjoying their music.

Chigusa shrugs. “It’s easy to listen, and people like the PV. I liked it, too—it was really cute.”

“It was Nagisa’s idea,” Haruka says. The girl laughs, her hairbun bouncing in time with her shaking shoulders.

“You got the girls crazy over you two,” she tells him. “It’s been a while since your last single release, your fans are gonna flip to see you two together again.”

They fall silent, and Makoto listens, to the beat and tune and the dips in Rin’s voice at the parts when he changes his pitch, searches for the laughter tinting the words ‘ _Hava Rava_ ’ that’s apparent Rin’s second refrain, catches the slight break in his voice and the unsteady take of breath between the lyrics, and suddenly realized how far Rin’s grown, now.

“Rin,” he says out of the blue, “is amazing now.”

“He’s always been.” Haruka replies, distracted with his phone, and Makoto sees Chigusa nodding in agreement.

“Yes, but, he’s even more amazing now—his voice is steadier, smoother, he plays with pitches more often and he has better control when he does that.” Makoto pauses, right at the part where Rin sings the last ‘ _Hava Rava’_ words, voice pitched a tad too high.  “He’s getting even better.”

“So are you,” Haruka gives him a look. Makoto chuckles.

“I wonder.”

He remembers Rin and his upcoming solo debut, remembers the sheet of music Rin’s thrown away and he kept, remembers the lyrics he tore off his notebook and left in the café. He remembers Rin talking about his dream, about his father, and thinks, _maybe_ _it’s just time to let go, little by little_.

“A solo debut is so awesome,” he says, and Haruka glances at him.

“What, do you want one?”

Makoto laughs and shakes his head. “No, it sounds lonely.”

Because Rin is so much more than he is, because Rin’s talent could still go miles and miles away, a potentially bright star that might one day outshine the sun. RaM, Makoto figures, is probably his moon, somehow—reflecting Rin’s brilliant light, bathing them both in this quiet manner, but it isn’t enough for Rin’s dream.

He takes out his phone and fires off a message to Rin, the tips of his thumb shaking ever so slightly because he’s still scared—of losing what he’s built, of not having RaM, of making music alone. But it’s Rin’s dream, he reminds himself, so he composes the message anyway and sends it.

_Congratulations on the solo debut, Rin. Tell me if there’s anything I could help, alright?_

**\-----o0o----**

Rin’s reply comes in short words, when Makoto is still on the photoshoot set.

_Thanks. Sorry I didn’t tell you._

Makoto thinks of a hundred different words to reply, wonders if he should start counting down the days RaM could still be a unit, which they barely are, nowadays, for all the times they could actually see each other. Maybe if he’s prepared, when the time comes that RaM has to disband, it wouldn’t be so painful.

He settles for a simple _‘Have fun’_ , and turns off his phone.

**\-----o0o-----**

A huge picture of Rin, grinning his patented Matsuoka grin on the set of his variety show shoot, with a young woman slightly older pressed close against his shoulder, hunching over something together with bright eyes, is slapped on the first page of the weekly gossip tabloid on Sunday morning.

Makoto sees it as he passes the local bookstore on his way to the station, and his stomach bottoms out.

“Oh,” he breathes out, eyes locked at the words emblazoned under the picture: _Idol Matsuoka Rin and Songwriter Maehara Kikuchi: Love Between the Lines?_

His brain tries to wrap around the word songwriter for a whole minute as he freezes on the sidewalk, breath catching in his throat, jumbling thoughts making a tableau in his head: _songwriter, solo offer, their music, solo offer, Maehara Kikuchi, songwriter, their music_ —

He think his hand is shaking.

 _Love_.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Makoto jumps. He fumbles as he fishes his phone out, nearly letting it slip through his fingers before catching it on the last second, eyes widening as Haruka’s name flashes on the screen. He takes a second to hesitate—thinks _Maehara Kikuchi, songwriter, solo offer, love_ —and his thumb slides across the screen.

“Haru?”

His voice must have come out quieter than he intended to, because Haruka misses a beat, and the first thing he says is: “Are you okay?”

Makoto stares straight at the words, bold and bright, stares at the word _songwriter_ and _love_ , and takes a breath. Smiles.

“Yeah, everything’s okay,” he answers smoothly, turns towards the bookstore, and brings himself to step in. It’s still early; the only other customer is an irritated-looking girl browsing through the magazines. “I’ll be there soon, just stopping by to buy something.”

“…..Alright,” Haruka replies, bland and nonplussed, but Makoto could hear the doubt in his voice. “The interviewer’s already here.”

“I’ll run,” he says, and plucks the tabloid off the display.

He reads the article on the train, reads about how Rin will be starring in an afternoon drama in which Maehara Kikuchi is in charge of writing songs for, reads how they’re often seen together lately in sets and coffee shops, reads how Maehara says that she will be working with Rin for more than the afternoon drama, reads how Rin answers in the interview that Maehara’s songs are beautiful and he’d like to sing one of hers, maybe one day.

Makoto tears the page off, throws the rest of the tabloid into the trash can, slips the article into his notebook, and writes:

_Fumbling around for the broken thread_

_I’m following it_

_Still searching for you_

**\-----o0o-----**

Rei and Nagisa decide to push back the release date of their single, in the end. It’s dangerously close to Rin’s own solo debut release, whicn unsettles Nagisa a little, but Rei comes up with his perfect plan.

“Rin-san’s solo debut release is on the 25th, and his solo debut mini concert would be on the 27th,” Rei tells him. “We’re going to use his mini concert to announce RaM’s new single, and promote it as well. It should get a boost—we could release it two weeks later.”

“Do you think you guys can come up with a new song before that?” Nagisa looks at Makoto, eyes hopeful, and Makoto feels bad for letting him down, but he shakes his head.

Nagisa’s expression falls.

“I think,” Makoto says with a strained smile. “This time, we should leave it to the professionals and let them make a song for us.”

**\-----o0o-----**

Predictably, Rin is furious.

“Might as well quit,” Rin snarls through the phone, and it’s three in the morning but Makoto’s still wide awake, thinking of shows in the park and small performance in stages and rowdy karaokes, of cheap apartment and the sense of owning and belonging, of RaM and their music and an unfinished song and Rin’s solo debut. “If you don’t want to make music anymore, Makoto, there’s no use—“

“You,” Makoto says, keeps his voice light and pleasant, because it’s the only way he knows not to completely break down at the very notion of Rin suggesting to quit. “Are going to be so busy composing for your debut single, Rin. You won’t have the time to make another song for our single release.”

He hears Rin’s breath catches, waits for three beats, and Rin bursts out, “And you think professionals should take over?! It’s our music, Makoto, it should be us—“

“What we came up with didn’t work.”

“We were going to make a new one!”

“I’m not throwing away what we’d written together.”

“That shit was not our _best_ , Makoto, why don’t you get it—“

“Rin,” he cuts in, voice tensed, pressuring. “We won’t have the time.”

Rin makes a frustrated sound. “We could if we try—“

“It’s your solo debut,” Makoto tells him. “It’s important, isn’t it? It’s your _dream_.”

“What the hell are you trying to say? That our music is less important?!”

“Yes,” Makoto says, and he feels his last defense is crumbling at the lie, feels the fear clawing up his chest, slithering and pooling thick in his throat, and he reminds himself that this isn’t about him—this is about Rin and his dream, and Makoto would rather stop making music than standing on his best friend’s way. “Your solo debut is more important. You won’t have time to do both your solo single and RaM, you should concentrate on your single.”

Rin is silent for a long, long while, until finally he curses under his breath, angry and hurt, and says, “Don’t fucking give up on time, you idiot.”

 _What do you want me to do_ , Makoto thinks, but Rin hangs up and leaves a monotone dial tone ringing in Makoto’s ear.

**\-----o0o-----**

When he settles down on the couch that night, leaning against Haruka’s back as usual, something is off.

“Haru?” he asks, unsure, turning slightly because the set of Haruka’s shoulders is tense, and the staccato sound of Haruka’s fingers on his laptop keys is louder—more pointed, like he’s irritated at something. Haruka makes a ‘ _hmmm’_ noise at the back of his throat, but he doesn’t turn to look at Makoto, which means something really is wrong, so Makoto presses. “What’s wrong?”

Haruka just shrugs. Makoto waits, until Haruka’s fingers stop flying across the keyboard, and Haruka’s voice fills the silence in their apartment.

“I talked to Rin.”

Makoto blinks.

“You’re being stubborn, Makoto.”

That Haruka decided to talk to Rin about Makoto and Rin’s fight this time in itself is unusual, Makoto knows that. After all, it isn’t the first time he and Rin argue about their music, but Haruka would usually stay silent and wait for them to sort it out themselves.

But Haruka talked to Rin, and is confronting Makoto about it with a look _this_ close to irritation.

There’s a slight twinge somewhere in his chest at that look—thoughts flashing across Makoto’s head: _ah, so Haru stands by Rin this time_ —and Makoto is surprised by the sharp anger and the sense of betrayal that rises in him.

“I—“ he begins, and honestly doesn’t know how to finish. He closes his mouth and stays silent, tries to sort out his thoughts, and wonders where to begin.

Haruka closes his laptop. “You’re running away.”

“I’m not,” Makoto’s voice takes a defensive tone. “You know why I was so angry, Haru. I wasn’t—Rin didn’t even tell me about his solo offer.”

Haruka looks straight at him, unfazed by the heat underlining his words. “You know this isn’t about that.”

“No,” Makoto says, and the syllable comes out more forceful than he intends to. “It’s about Rin’s dream, and I’m trying to do what’s right, even if that makes him angry.”

Haruka’s stare turns sharp. “Even if it’s not what Rin wants?” His eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, and for the first time in his life, Makoto receives a disappointed look from his best friend. “Don’t decide for him, Makoto.”

Makoto flinches—that one hurts. “I don’t—“

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Haruka says, quiet as he touches Makoto’s arm in an apologetic gesture. “But you lie a lot when you’re running away from something. You should be honest to your partner, Makoto.”

Makoto’s throat works, breath catching, before he finally wrenches his eyes away from Haruka’s and stands up. Haruka’s hand on his arm tugs once before letting go. “Makoto—“

“I don’t know what to think,” Makoto says, feeling hollow, and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Haru, I just—it’s—not tonight, I can’t—“

He stumbles back to his room, the door closing behind him with a louder slam than he intends to, and then it’s silence—blissful silence, wrapping around him like a long-lost lover, pressing and cold and Makoto hazily remembers that he’d left his guitar outside.

When he wakes up in the morning, Haruka isn’t there. Instead there’s a cup of warm tea and mackerel for breakfast, and a note from his best friend telling him to take the day off. Makoto takes the cup of tea to the living room, glancing at the blaring TV set on mute, and decides to turn on the radio instead.

The music program is on, with its occasional celebrity and entertainment news. He eats his breakfast, tries not to think too much about what Haruka told him last night or about Rin, and listens to the bits of news about the newest historical drama, the mini-concerts announcements, about Mikoshiba being nominated for another award, and—

_“—in other news, regarding a unit under the same production as Mikoshiba Seijuurou, there has been a rumor about RaM possibly breaking up—“_

—the world freezes.

**\-----o0o-----**

Nagisa’s face on the TV is beaming, brighter than it usually is, and Makoto knows that means he’s hiding something.

 _“That’s just a rumor, of course!”_ the young producer claims. _“RaM’s going to release a new single soon, in fact—“_

 _“The date’s been set back, though. Again.”_ The reporter who keeps pace with him says; her words concise and precise, and Nagisa has never been a good liar, so the way his expression changes, the way he looks taken aback by the question, is a great opening no reporter would miss. _“Hazuki-san, is it true that you’re planning to debut them as solo idols like Mikoshiba?”_

Nagisa’s face contorts for a second before he visibly tries to school it into a neutral one. _“Absolutely not. We’d never do that! Rin-chan and Mako-chan would be the ones deciding if RaM were ever going to break up—“_

 _“And we can assure you,”_ Rei cuts in, pulling Nagisa back and pushing him to walk faster towards the waiting car. _“That RaM might be busy with their solo projects now, but the rumor is untrue. Please schedule an interview for any more questions, thank you.”_

The camera keeps up with them until Nagisa and Rei disappear into the car, panning out at the car doors slamming close, and there’s a glimpse of Chigusa as she shouts at the journalists to clear the way before swerving the car out of there.

Makoto stares at the TV, feeling like he can’t quite catch his breath.

**\-----o0o-----**

Their twitter account is literally flooded. Their website crashes after the server couldn’t handle the flood of comments and e-mails from worried fans. Makoto is admittedly a little bit overwhelmed at the reaction of RaM fans; at each tweet mentioning their account asking about the rumor, at the fights breaking on twitter or blogs between fans who are disappointed and those who are still hoping, at the three-times-thicker stacks of fanmails the postman drops at the agency for him and Rin. And in the midst of that, Haruka wouldn’t stop giving him pointed looks, sending him some links to fanworks or blog posts that state Rin and Makoto love each other too much to break up.

He finds himself laughing bitterly at such posts, though. If only, he thinks, but Tachibana Makoto is a coward and has always been a coward.

So instead he throws all his feelings into a song, one he knows no one else except Haruka would ever hear. He remembers the basic melody that Rin threw away on the night of their fight, plucks the guitar and lets his instinct guides him. He gets halfway before the melody jars, and he returns to the beginning, playing another unfinished song over and over and over again, singing wordless melody under his breath.

Haruka settles next to him on the couch, silent with his pen and notes and agenda, glancing at Makoto as the corners of his lips twitch up. Makoto lets him be, focuses on the mindlessness of plucking the strings under his fingers, tries to figure out where the end of the song lies even though it feels like it keeps escaping him.

He’ll probably never finish a song without Rin, Makoto figures, and swallows the twinge in his chest.

**\-----o0o-----**

“You should tell Rin,” Haruka says the next morning when Makoto hands him a mug of coffee. 

Makoto blinks. “Tell him what?” 

“That you love him.” Haruka’s fingers curl around the mug, eyes closing as he takes a sip, and when Makoto opens his mouth to deny the statement, he gives him a look. “Makoto. What do you take me for?” 

“My best friend,” Makoto answers almost reflexively, because it’s some sort of fundamental truth, like how the sun rises in the east and how the sky is blue. 

Haruka nods. “Then don’t lie to me about this. I know.” 

Makoto closes his mouth, stares at Haruka for a long time, and wonders what the tightening in his chest is. Oddly, his mouth seems unable to suppress the small smile breaking out, and before he knows it, he’s laughing. Small chuckles that tumble out of his mouth, but make his whole body shake anyway. 

Haruka looks back at him. “What?” 

“No,” Makoto says, and he really doesn’t know what to feel right now, because yes, he loves Rin, and he hasn’t exactly been hiding it from Haruka, but he never told Haruka before, either, and Haruka understands anyway. “No, I just—Haru, I need to tell you something.” 

Haruka shrugs. “Go ahead.” 

His voice sounds bitter, still, and there’s thick sadness curling in his throat, but Makoto manages to smile. “I’m in love with Rin.” 

“Figured,” Haruka says, bumping his shoulder against Makoto. “Good luck, Makoto.” 

Not that he seems to have any chance at all, now, but the sincerity in Haruka’s voice makes him feel better. 

“Thanks, Haru.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

He doesn’t hear from Rin at all, nowadays. He wonders if Rin’s busy, wonders if he should send him a message, maybe apologize or something, but he doesn’t want to bug Rin either, so he opts to ask Gou instead. 

“Nah, our schedule here isn’t that crazy,” Gou tells him over the phone on Wednesday night, when Makoto’s waiting for the train home to come. “Oniichan’s been crazy busy all by himself, I have no idea. He always has sheets of music with him, he keeps writing lyrics and throwing them away—I mean, everyone in the set wants to hang out with him after shootings, but Oniichan would just go back to our trailer and work on more music. I don’t know, I’m exhausted just watching him.” 

“Sounds like Rin,” Makoto says, and Gou’s laughter tinkles in his ear. 

“I guess, yeah. He does get like that when it comes to music. Sometimes.” She quiets down. “Are you guys still fighting?” 

Makoto opens his mouth to say ‘no’, but the word gets stuck to his throat because, _are they_? He could never be sure with Rin—Rin’s always the different one. Always the one who shines brighter than anyone, always the one who is the most complicated and complicates everything the most. He supposes that’s why Rin’s very presence blindsides everybody who so much glances his way. 

“I don’t know,” Makoto admits, the words heavy in his tongue. “Is he mad?” 

“No, not mad, just—“ Gou pauses, and Makoto waits for the other shoe to drop, pictures Gou gnawing her lower lip as she searches for words. “I mean, he’s just his usual self, mostly, it’s just—he looks sad, sometimes.” 

Makoto doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just hums. Gou sighs. 

“Makoto-senpai, seriously.” 

“Eh?” 

“You love my brother,” her voice drops, nearly drowned by the cacophony of a busy street in the background and the announcement blaring over his head. Makoto almost chokes at her bluntness. “Oh, come on.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Makoto says helplessly.

There’s a hint of giggle underneath Gou’s voice. “You’re a very good liar, but we’ve been your friends forever. We learn, you know. Also, you kind of told me, before.” 

“I’ve been trying to forget about it.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Gou replies, sounding a little bit haughty this time, like she knows a secret Makoto doesn’t. “But seriously, though, you two should talk. You guys are partners, you guys are RaM, you can’t just pretend that none of you is capable of speech.” 

Gou is right. He knows she is, knows that his friends are trying to encourage him, but the name _Maehara Kikuchi_ and a beautiful, petite face flashes across his mind, and Makoto knows he’s lost anyway. 

Gou should know better—she’s the one who’s always with Rin, she’s probably seen Rin and Maehara-san together countless times. Gou should’ve just told him the truth about it, then tell him to quit because there’s no hope for him, or something. 

The sound of the train filled the station. Makoto stands. That’s his train. “It’s my train,” he tells Gou as much, hears her exasperated groan. “I’ll talk to you later, Gou-chan.” 

“Talk to Oniichan instead of me!” is Gou’s last yell at him before he disconnects the call, letting the rushing crowds whisk him into the train. 

**\-----o0o-----**

He’s still in the train when his phone buzzes. It’s rude to answer a call in the train though, so Makoto ignores it even when he sees Rei’s name flashing on the screen. 

The call ceases a minute later, replaced by a message telling him that he’s got the whole next week free. 

Makoto stares at the message, half-amazed, automatically thinking _that’s great, I’d have time to go home with Haru and play with the twins, it’s been a while since we visit Sasabe-san’s café, and maybe I’d even have time for a session with Rin—_  

Then two voices, high-pitched and excited, pierce through his thoughts and snap him out of his daze: “Oh, they just announced the new drama title Matsuoka Rin’s gonna star in!” 

“The one with Maehara Kikuchi?” 

“Do you think the rumor was true?” 

“Do you think that’s why RaM’s going to break up?” 

Makoto jams his hand into his pocket and yanks out his earphones, fumbling with them a little as he plugs his ears completely, blasting the first song his thumb finds on the phone screen in a desperate attempt to drown out whatever it is the group of high school girls are saying about Rin (about Maehara Kikuchi, and RaM, and the possibility that RaM might be done, that Rin might want to stop and be done with RaM, and—) 

He bites his lower lip, hard. 

(He never hears one of the girls scoffing and saying, “If Maehara takes Rinrin from Mako-chan and breaks up RaM I’m going to find a way to make homicide legal,” to the agreeing noises of his friends.) 

**\-----o0o-----**

“It’s your vacation, Makoto,” Haruka says blandly, eyes ever leaving his laptop, later on when Makoto invites him to come over to his house. “Not mine.” 

Makoto’s fingers still on the guitar frets. “Huh?” 

Haruka shrugs. “Nagisa and Rei want me to help with something next week.” 

“Wait, you don’t get a vacation?” Makoto’s eyebrows rise up higher. “But you’re my manager.” 

“Incidentally, the ones paying me right now are Nagisa and Rei, so.” 

Fair enough, Makoto thinks, and relaxes against Haruka’s back. He skims the surface of the guitar frets, pausing for a second before deciding to go back on the song from the very beginning. Not that he knows how this song would end, anyway—he couldn’t ever seem to finish it. 

“Say hi to the twins for me,” Haruka murmurs, and Makoto hums. 

**\-----o0o-----**

**サ** **バ**   @sabamizu  10m

Insider scoop! Matsuoka Rin’s going to have a secret live next Thurs. No further info yet, update later.

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 **りりポノ**   @maririri  10m

Solo secret live? Aw~ he’s really leaving RaM, I guess.

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 **ムドベ** **25 @C18** @n_arashima  10m

He CAN go solo without quitting RaM, y’know. Has anybody else realized this or have we all turned dumb?

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 **やきとりおいしい** @poponyo  10m

They haven’t been appearing together for a long time though. I bet Rinrin and Mako-chan miss each other.

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 **みゆきです** **!!** @hoshimiyu  9m

I’m going to watch it even if it’s held in Okinawa! Though I live in Tokyo~

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 **サ** **バ**   @sabamizu  9m

It’ll be held in Tokyo.

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 **ニヤァ** @nyarranko  8m

Saba-chan you always know so much. Thanks for the scoop as usual~ （=´∇｀=）

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 **やきとりおいしい** @poponyo  7m

Would Mako-chan be there though? Poor Rinrin if he has to do it alone.

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 **りりポノ**   @maririri  6m

Hey, Mako-chan isn’t the one leaving RaM here, stop putting the blame on him. ლ(ಠ_ಠლ)

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 **サ** **バ**   @sabamizu  9m

Next Thurs, Yoyogi Park, Shibuya. 4 in the afternoon. Be there everyone!

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**\-----o0o-----**


	5. 36°C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin's secret solo live. Things happen. Rin's solo single release. Even more things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a full year but hey, I finished this! Or not, there's still an epilogue coming, but that would just be pointless fluff and stupid PV shooting shenanigans, so you could consider this chapter the end, tbh. :D
> 
> Also written for day 7 prompt of MakoRin Week: Music.

The twins are ecstatic when he gets home, literally pouncing on him as he steps on the genkan, and it’s all Makoto could do to catch the both of them without introducing his head to the floor. 

His siblings are bigger now—Ren is taller than Ran, the first signs of puberty already shaping his jaw, apparent in his long, awkward limbs, and a height that surpasses his older sister by a full head, while Ran now has squishy boobs pressing against Makoto’s middle when she buries herself in Makoto’s arms. It’s a bit jarring, how they grow and physically change when Makoto isn’t home, but he’s relieved that in the midst of his chaotic life, the twins would always provide something constant for him to come home to. 

“Welcome home, Oniichan,” they cheer, and Makoto feels warmth bursting inside his chest, filling him full to the brim with how comforting each syllable that comes out of the twins, pushing the words out of him before he even realizes it. 

“I’m home.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

There’s a huge poster of RaM in the twins’ bedroom. 

“Wow,” is Makoto’s only reaction when he steps into the room—it’s an A2-sized poster, taped with cute dolphin-patterned selotape on the wall next to the standing mirror across the twins’ bunk bed. On the wall above Ren’s study desk, there’s a framed collage made out of Makoto and Rin’s pictures and various articles about RaM, neatly decorated with tiny flowers and bright-colored crayons. But the biggest surprise, probably, is the A4-sized pinup of Rin grinning on the wall next to Ran’s bottom bunk bed. 

“Ran’s a traitor,” Ren says, voice teasing even as he hops on his sister’s bed, head jerking towards the pinup. “She likes Rin-san better than Oniichan.” 

Ran scowls at him, but her eyes are dancing, and Makoto realizes that this is how the twins are now—teasing back and forth under their usual banter and bickering. “I like them both the _same_ ,” she insists, arms permanently looped around Makoto’s own like she’s never going to let go of him again. “I just like to look at Rin-san’s face more often than Oniichan’s. Also we have pictures of Oniichan all over the house.” 

“Liar, you kept saying that you’re Rin-san’s biggest fan,” Ren sticks out his tongue. 

The gesture is countered with the same exact one from the girl. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I love Oniichan less!” 

“Ran’s a traitor, traitor, traitor—“ 

“Ren, you idiot, idiot, idiot—“ 

“Hey,” Makoto cuts in, laughing under his breath, because this isn’t a fight he needs to break up, not like how the fights between Ran and Ren used to be, not when there’s laughter hiding in every insult the twins throw to one another. “It’s fine, I’m kind of Rin’s biggest fan, too.” 

The twins turn to him, eyes wide. “Really?” 

“He sings better than I do, and you know—“ Makoto tugs Ran over to the bottom bed, takes a seat next to Ren and lets him press against him the way Ran is doing. “If you see him play the guitar, up close? It’s very mesmerizing. The way his fingers move—Rin pays so much attention to his technique, and it’s like—like you’re watching a song being born, literally, from the tips of his fingers every time they move. It’s beautiful.” 

He realizes how reverent he must have sounded when the twins stare at him in awe unblinkingly, breaths held in anticipation. He feels like he’s disappointing them when he laughs sheepishly and cuts everything short with a soft, “Uh, yeah. Rin is—he’s amazing.” 

“Oniichan really is Rin-san’s biggest fan,” Ran says, the awed look in his face already changing into one of—excitement? Makoto isn’t really sure. “I told this to Ren the other day—didn’t I say so, Ren? That it’s impossible for RaM to break up, because Oniichan likes Rin-san so much! You two get along so well whenever we see you on TV, and even in the PVs—Oniichan always looks so happy with Rin-san, so there’s no way the rumor could be true!” 

Ren, always the more perceptive and more sensitive than his female counterpart, glances at Makoto, hesitates a little, and finally asks, “Is it true, Oniichan? That RaM’s not going to break up?” 

He isn’t sure whether it’s because the twins who ask about this, or whether it’s because of the sudden bout of nostalgic feelings slamming right into him as he stares at the framed collage: at the news title announcing RaM’s debut, at Rin’s proud smile in one photo where he and Makoto hold RaM’s first single together, at one of the screenshot of their third PV—but something his throat clogs up, his chest tightens, and he feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. 

“Oniichan…?” that’s Ran, that’s—his sister, looking up at him, eyebrows knotted in worry. 

He’s going to cry, Makoto thinks, so he pulls the twins into his arms, tucks their heads under his chin, buries his face in the soft strands of hair, and mumbles, “I don’t want RaM to break up.” 

Against his shoulder, Ren shuffles—Makoto could feel his brother’s mouth opening, but whatever it is Ren is about to say, Ran beats him with a harsh sounding “sshh!” and Makoto chooses not to comment on that. 

Instead, he holds the twins tighter, tries to draw his strength back from the way Ran clutches at his shoulder and Ren pressing the side of his head against Makoto’s shoulder. 

**\-----o0o-----**

On Thursday afternoon, Ran barges into his room and winds her arms around Makoto’s neck. Makoto laughs, standing up because he can, bringing Ran’s feet off the ground and listening to the excited giggle that burst out of Ran’s lips. 

“Oniichan,” she says, when Makoto sets her down. “I wanna go to a secret concert in Shibuya, but Mom wouldn’t let me go by myself.” She pouts for good measure, glancing out the door. “Ren can’t go, he has club meetings.” 

“I see,” Makoto says lightly, and then, because he knows he doesn’t want Ran go to Shibuya by herself either, says. “I’ll go with you.” 

Ran claps he hands and cheers, tiptoeing to kiss him on the cheek, and then she shoots off out of his room with a victorious crow. 

Makoto laughs, turns back to his laptop, and wonders whose concert it is that Ran is so excited to watch. 

**\-----o0o-----**

They take the train to Shibuya, and Ran leads him to Yoyogi Park with a cheerful chatter and an excited “You just have to see him for yourself, Oniichan!” when Makoto asks her whose concert he’s going to. She’d also forced him to wear a hat and a sunglasses, shoved a blue hoodie for him to wear and pulled the hoodie up so that it obscured half of his face. 

“I want to concentrate on the concert,” she’d said sternly. “I don’t want anyone to recognize Oniichan and we’d have to go run and hide or something.” 

They walk towards the more secluded part of the park—there’s a small stage set up with a standing microphone, a stool, and a keyboard, surrounded by soundbars and speakers. Makoto is surprised to see quite a number of people hanging around, obviously waiting for the concert to start. Most of them were girls—teenagers and young adults—and by the way Ran makes a breathless noise, he’s pretty sure whoever’s going to go up the stage is a male. 

He looks around—thirty, forty—about sixty? Quite a big number for a supposedly secret concert. 

“Makoto,” a familiar voice calls, and Makoto has a second to freeze because _what_? He whirls around so fast he nearly loses his footing, eyes widening at the sight of Haruka, decked in blue jeans and black sleeveless shirt, standing behind him and Ran with an amused look. 

“Haru?” he exclaims, and earns Ran’s gentle elbow on his hip. He casts an apologetic glance at his sister, and lowers his voice. “What are you doing here?” 

“Watching a concert,” Haruka answers, bending down a little so he could catch Ran’s gaze, who giggles at him. “Right, Ran?” 

Ran nods enthusiastically. “Haru-chan told me about the secret concert,” she tells Makoto, when her brother looks at her in askance. 

“Oh,” Makoto says, not knowing whether he’s more surprised that Haruka shares the same taste as music as Ran enough for him to tell her about secret concerts, or that Haruka actually goes to some secret concerts. He knows Haruka has his own favorite musicians, of course, but they’re mostly big names in the industry, not the kind of musicians who would do small secret concerts like this. So he settles for chuckling and raising an eyebrow at Haruka. “You didn’t tell me about this.” 

Haruka shrugs. “You’re on vacation.” 

“As an idol, not as your best friend.” 

Haruka’s lips twitch upwards slightly. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d be interested.” 

“Well, Ran’s dragged me all the way here, so I might as well enjoy it now,” Makoto smiles down at his sister, who beams back just as someone goes up the stage and tests the mic. People are starting to gravitate to the stage, hushed, excited whispers and murmurs filling the gaps between them, a sense of anticipation rising. 

“It’s almost four,” Haruka says, checking his watch. “It’s going to start in a minute.” 

Ran pulls on Makoto’s hand. “Come on, I want to get in the front!” 

Makoto relents, laughing as he follows his sister, Haruka close behind. They push through the crowd, making their way to the third row before Ran makes a frustrated noise at the people who refuse to give up their spot. She pouts up at Makoto, glares at the backs of people who stand before her, and grumbles, “I wanna get in the front.” 

“It’s fine,” Makoto pats her head, careful not to mess up the twintails she’d carefully done before they left home. “You can still see clearly from here, right?” 

“I guess,” Ran huffs, then turns to Haruka, who is staring straight at the stage. “Haru-chan, can you see?” 

Haruka nods, indicating the two teenagers standing in front of him, whose top of heads only reach Haruka’s nose. “I’m okay.” 

“Oniichan, carry me on your shoulders if I can’t see later, okay?” 

Makoto chuckles. “The people behind us would be mad if you block their view, though,” he says, this time taking hold of Ran’s hand so she wouldn’t be separated. “I’m curious, though, whose concert is this?” 

Ran just smiles up at him. Makoto raises his eyebrows, then turns to Haruka. “Haru? Whose concert is this? Ran wouldn’t tell me.” 

Haruka doesn’t look at him, simply staring straight at the still empty stage. Makoto waits for two, three, four beats before Haruka finally says, “You’ll see.” 

“What—“ is the only thing Makoto could say before the crowd goes crazy with a deafening cheer. 

Ran squeezes his hand, and Makoto turns to look at the stage, and freezes. 

It’s Rin. 

It’s Rin, stepping up on the stage with his guitar, grinning widely at the crowd and waving back enthusiastically, hair pulled back in a ponytail the way he used to do it back when he and Makoto were still playing at the park. The afternoon sunrays are natural spotlights shining upon him, turning him into a blinding existence before Makoto’s eyes, so at ease and comfortable as he makes his way, surprisingly, behind the keyboard, setting his guitar against the stool. 

The crowd’s cheer turns into white noise, and Makoto’s whole world narrows down to the lone figure on the stage, sitting on the stool with an easy smile and bright eyes, and Makoto is once again reminded of how he’d fallen in love. 

It’s Rin. This is Rin’s secret solo concert—one Makoto doesn’t know about. That’s why Haruka is here, that’s why Ran is here. 

The first stab of pain in his chest surprises him somehow—how come no one told him about this? Rin is his partner, they’re a unit still even if Rin might go for a solo career after this, and _Haruka knows_. The last thought makes something in his throat constricts painfully, the frightening claws of betrayal sinking, and Makoto thinks, unbidden, _how could you, how could you_ — 

Rin taps the mic twice, smiling at the crowd, and says, “Hey, everyone.” 

A chaotic chorus of Rin’s name and unintelligible shrieks is what he gets for an answer. Rin laughs—happy and bright and so _free_ —and Makoto can’t take his eyes away from him. 

“Thanks for coming—I didn’t expect there’d be so many of you.” More enthusiastic yells, and Rin waves them down. “Yeah, I’m glad you came, all of you. So today’s concert will be very short, just five songs, some sort of, uh, introduction? My solo single comes out in two days—“ A round of applause and excited shouts cut him off. Rin grins. “I don’t know if it’s going to be great, but it’s really important for me, so I’d be really happy if you’d all buy it.” 

Louder cheers this time, one that makes Rin throws his head back and laughs, fixes the position of the mic in front of the keyboard, and presses the first note. 

It’s Miura Daichi’s _Burning Weakness_ , Makoto recognizes instantly. It’s the first song that he heard Rin played back then, in the park where their paths finally meet. One of their favorites, a ballad they like to play on acoustics, with just enough beats that makes it a tad bit similar to R&B. It’s slower now, played on the tunes of keyboard, soft if a bit depressing as Rin’s voice flows gently through the notes. The tunes tangle, sways in the air and buoys the listeners, wrap around Rin’s voice as his pitch raises in a smooth falset and drops again, rich and gentle, breaking in all the right parts: _of course you have a weakness, it’s okay, you’re human—_

_Face your own weakness._  

The keyboard melody stops right at the last line, leaving Rin’s voice finishing the song. There’s a blissful silence that hangs over the venue for three full seconds—this is the effect Rin has on people, Makoto marvels quietly—before everyone erupts into a loud claps and shrieks, Rin’s name echoing in between. Rin beams, his grin rogue and full of confidence, and Makoto has to close his eyes for a moment because Rin is too blinding. 

The next two songs were a row of ballads—Hirai Ken’s _Canvas_ , heartbreakingly beautiful as Rin’s voice turns soft and low, bringing out sniffles in the audience and making Makoto’s eyes prickle. Matsushita Yuya’s _Negai ga Kanau Nara_ is next, with Rin playing the intro in the piano before swiftly turning to take his guitar and pluck the next notes seamlessly, melody tumbling from both his fingers and lips, singing in a higher pitch than before, lifting the mood with the more playful tunes, sweeping the audience into tapping their feet and nodding their heads to the beat, ending the song with a soft falset that settles into the wind, blending with the claps from the audience. 

He shines, Makoto thinks, unable to take his eyes off Rin’s figure, so at ease and home, eyes bright and happy and free. Maybe it’s the right thing, to let Rin focus on his solo, if it makes him so happy like this. Maybe it’s the right thing to disband RaM, because Rin is bright enough on his own, perhaps even brighter than when they perform together. Rin—like the sun, like a comet, so talented and hardworking—deserves the best, and who is Makoto to stand between him and his dream? 

“The next song is a preview of my single,” Rin says into the mic, drawing excited whoops from his listeners. “It’s a bit different from what I sing so far, in RaM, but I’ve worked very hard on this—on both the music and lyric, so it’d mean a lot if you guys would listen carefully.” 

Makoto watches, as Rin pauses, the slightest sign of nervousness in the motion of his slightly trembling fingers when he hoists up his guitar and settles, and takes a breath. 

“Here it is, _Passage_.” 

Makoto holds his breath at the first note, a soft melody with equally soft beats in-between when Rin taps on his guitar—clearly a song designed especially to be played on acoustics. Rin’s vocal follows almost immediately, his normal pitch flows very smoothly, harmonizing with the tune of his guitar. 

_Before I realized, I’ve reached here_

_On this journey, full of mountain roads_  

An R&B song with a touch of jazz about a journey—of growth and the things that come with it: hesitance, worry, and uncertainty blending with happiness and a sense of satisfaction. Makoto closes his eyes, lets his mind plays images as the lyrics Rin had written take him in a journey; of childish drawings of his dream and future, of the feeling of not growing, not going anywhere, of the sense of stuck in one place while everyone else is getting better. Of himself as a child, half-laughing and telling him have a safe journey, of people whose paths cross over with his own and ends up walking by his side. 

_There are things that have to change,_

_But even then, there are some things that never change_

_Holding these things of pride, now,_

_Taking this light-filled detour_  

Of someone familiar standing in the distance close to the finish line, older and wiser and knowing, pointing at the line with an encouraging smile. There’s someone else, too—the two figures pressing close, side-by-side, walking together and awashed in light, and Makoto’s breath catches because this is his dream, his own—to not walk on this path by himself. 

To walk on this path with Rin, too. 

_The future that I still can’t see is widening_

_If I can walk with you, surely… surely…_  

Rin’s voice breaks into a high falsetto, carried away by the soft breeze, holding the note that vibrates in the end, and Makoto thinks, this is Rin’s feelings. 

These are the feelings that Rin wants to convey, wants to tell everyone. His own story, his own journey. One that Makoto stands in, one that is too close that sometimes Makoto takes it for granted. A desire to keep growing and changing, and yet wishing for constancy to keep him grounded. An unwavering belief that there will always be a way— _a passage only for me,_ Rin sings, looking up at the clear blue sky, _in the direction of light that clears up this spun sky—_  

Makoto wants to reach out and grasps them, all of them: these feelings, these stories, these heartfelt notes, Rin, _always Rin, forever Rin_. 

The song settles into a quiet end, Rin plucking the last of the melody with his fingers, and Makoto’s ears ring with the force of claps and impressed shouts. Next to him, Haruka ducks to hide an obvious proud smile, and Ran is practically vibrating, squeezing Makoto’s hand as if she’s seconds away from exploding and running into the stage to sweep Rin in a hug. 

Instead, she looks up to find Makoto’s gaze, and says almost dreamily. “You’re right, Oniichan. It’s like watching a song being born.” 

Something in Makoto swells, proudly. _Of course_ , he muses, stares at Rin, who is silently letting the applause washes over him, _this is my partner._  

**\-----o0o-----**

The last song is another cover, this time the light-hearted, ever-classic La La La Love Song. Old, but a good closing to a short secret live, and Rin calls to everyone to sing together. The audience erupts into a loud choir at the chorus line, mismatched pitches joining in Rin’s perfect harmony and turning it into something more abstract, more fun, more memorable. Rin laughs even as he sings, looking the happiest that Makoto ever remembered. 

“I’m glad I came,” he says to Haruka softly, wrapped in the harmony of people, in a motion Rin has set off. He smiles when Haruka turns to him with an apologetic gaze, and shakes his head. “Even if you guys trapped me into coming.” 

“You said you’d fix it,” Haruka points out, the slightest tone of exasperation slipping in. “You didn’t do anything to fix it, so I took over.” 

Makoto turns back towards the stage. “Does Rin know?” 

Haruka pauses. “No,” he replies, quietly. “I’m the only one who knows.” 

“You’re sneaky, Haru-chan.” 

Haruka huffs a soft laugh. “Drop the ‘chan’.” 

The last song ends too quickly, and people start clamoring for more. A chant for encore begins even before Rin stands up from his stool—Ran practically shouting at the top of her lungs, much to Makoto’s amusement. Rin, settling his guitar back onto his lap, laughs, welcomes the cheers of the audience like it’s all he’s born to do. 

“Well,” Rin says into the mic, looking thoughtful. “There is something I’d like to say. And a song I’d very much like to sing.” 

The crowd settles, quieter even as some girls still chant Rin’s name. Rin flashes a grin. 

“There’s been a rumor, right? About RaM.” 

Makoto’s stomach bottoms. A hundred thoughts flash in his mind—this is where Rin would announce that he’s resigning for RaM, this is where Rin would allude that RaM’s next single would be their last, this is where Rin would say that he’d had fun in RaM, but he wants to go further by himself. It’s frightening, even as the sense of disappointment settles over him, because Rin didn’t say anything to him. Didn’t even discuss anything anymore. Perhaps they aren’t partners, for Rin. Perhaps it’s just Makoto, wishing and striving to walk by Rin’s side when really, he’s only setting Rin back. 

The audience shift, uneasy but eager. 

“I can’t say anything about RaM for now,” Rin says, a slightest tone of wistfulness in every syllable. “I haven’t seen Makoto in so long—he’s on vacation right now, so we haven’t seen each other since I came back. Anyway, but we’re planning to release a single after my solo single—“ a round of enthusiastic applause interrupts him, and Rin laughs. “Yeah, isn’t it exciting? I miss working in RaM, we haven’t had a lot of work together lately.” 

Several voices rise, words tumbling over another: “We miss RaM!” and “We can’t wait!” and “Please don’t disband!” 

Rin smiles at that. “I don’t know if we’d still work together—I don’t want to assume,” he says, to the sounds of disappointment from everyone. Makoto clenches his hands, tasting bitterness at the back of his throat. Ran looks up at him in worry. 

“Oniichan…” 

“It’s fine,” he forces a smile, patting Ran’s head affectionately with a reassurance that he doesn’t feel. “Rin knows what he’s doing.” He returns his attention to the stage, notes the way Rin’s fingers fumble with the frets of his guitar, and steels himself. 

“Makoto.” 

Haruka, always quiet but steady, giving him a look he can’t decipher. 

“Trust him.” 

I do, Makoto wants to say, but the fear that grips his heart is too heavy. He swallows, takes a deep breath now as Rin stands up, reaching towards the music rack and pulls a sheet of paper, leaving it open on the keyboard. 

“Gotta cheat,” Rin jokes, drawing laughter out of his audience easily. “Alright, this is the last song for today. Thank you for coming, everyone!” 

Makoto sees Rin’s grip on his guitar tightens, and the the first note echoes. 

He freezes. 

It’s too familiar—of course it would, he’d remember the intro to a song they’d tried to work for three weeks before Rin crumpled the sheets and lobbed it towards the trash can, he’d remember a song he kept repeating in his head, trying to work it out and make it better, a song which lyrics he’d written and scraped too many times, both in his head and his notes and various other papers. 

_Don’t give into time_ , Rin sings the first line, sending a jolt through Makoto’s core as their past fights flash—anger and exasperation and not understanding each other—a hesitant beginning into a song that somehow feels empty, a song that somehow doesn’t feel right because it’s not supposed to be finished; _I tried to say those words, but I am just pushed for time_ , Rin continues, and something in Makoto’s mind disconnects with a jumbled _how come, how did Rin, I didn’t write those words, why would Rin sing this, but how?_  

Then Rin stops, simply humming even as he keeps playing. The song is spotty, completely empty at spots, with parts unsung and sometimes simply falls flat—so uncharacteristically them that most of the people around are starting to shift restlessly, uneasily. Why, Makoto thinks, as Rin begins the first chorus line, still empty and flat, _I miss you, I want to see you, we’ve lost track of our goal_ — 

And then it clicks. 

“ _Cry sky_ ,” Makoto chokes out, voice drowned by the echo of Rin’s guitar. “ _Fumbling around for the broken thread_ —“ his voice rises, louder now, almost desperate—he needs Rin to hear, to listen, to _understand_ —and slowly drawing attention. “ _I’m following it_ —“ 

Rin’s music abruptly stops, jars the imperfect harmony, as his head snaps up to look at Makoto’s direction, jaws dropping. 

“ _Still searching for you_ ,” Makoto finishes, face burning at the attention, the way he used to be back when he just started in the business, but Rin is looking straight at him, mouth agape and eyes wide, emotions flickering too fast across his face—but most obviously, disbelief and brittle hope. 

It gives Makoto the courage he needs to pull back his hoodie and take off the sunglasses Ran forced him to wear. 

Rin makes some sort of choked noise into the mic, throat working in vain for a second, and everyone lapses into shocked silence for a moment. 

Then Rin breaks into a weak laugh, and Makoto thinks he hears Rin swallows a sob as he grins into the mic and says, “Get up here, idiot Makoto.” 

“Go,” Haruka pushes him, nearly making him stumble over his own feet as he steps forward, and the crowd explodes with applause, shouts rising and forming both his name and Rin as he walks forward towards the stage, ending in a familiar chant of “RaM! RaM! RaM!” and high-pitched shrieks. Something in his chest warms up, slinking down his stomach comfortably, and Makoto blinks vigorously when his eyes prickle. 

Gou is waiting right next to the stage, Rin’s familiar spare guitar in her hand, beaming at him. 

“Thank you, Gou-chan,” Makoto says, and he means everything. Gou grins, accepts what he doesn’t say, and urges him up. Makoto spots Nagisa and Rei standing not far from the back—Rei smiling proudly at him as Nagisa gives him two thumbs up, and Makoto has to scrub at his eyes to not let himself cry. 

But even that is nothing compared to stepping onto the stage, compared to meeting Rin’s bright eyes, still wide at the sight of him. Nothing compared to the way Rin’s face crumples in relief at Makoto’s first hesitant smile, to the way Rin laughs shakily and rubs at his eyes, the chant of RaM’s name a background of his trembling, soft words: “I thought you’re still mad at me.” 

“I don’t even remember why I was mad at you,” Makoto admits, and it’s true, because things come one after another since their fight, without any chance for them to sit down and talk. “And you were the one glaring at me last time, remember?” 

Rin grins, and replies with a clear tone of we’re-both-idiots: “No, I don’t.” 

Makoto reaches out, offering one hand, and Rin visibly shakes before taking it, his grip firm if a bit too tight. It feels like both of them are clutching at each other’s hand, for one moment, before Rin makes an impatient noise and pulls Makoto into a friendly, tight hug. Makoto’s heart skips a beat, the lines of his body going rigid, but then he relaxes and hugs Rin back to the cheer of RaM’s name growing louder. 

It feels like something clicks home, and judging by the relieved sigh Rin muffles against Makoto’s shoulder, he feels the same, too. 

Rin’s grin is wider, almost wicked, when he lets go. “Let’s give them a show, Makoto.” 

The guitar in his hand is heavy, a reassurance Makoto takes to heart. He glances at the sheet of paper Rin cheated from, finds a full chords and lyrics, recognizes the words he once wrote incorporates into them, recognizes the melody and harmony that they’d worked together, recognized the additional arrangements he’d once considered and jotted down weaved with Rin’s own addition—a new song, he realizes, one that he and Rin somehow managed to finish separately, thick with their individual influences and yet still their music. 

Still RaM’s music. 

The bridge to the chorus line now has a nice slight crescendo that highlights their voice as Rin’s voice goes higher and Makoto’s goes down in harmony, seamlessly weaving with the tunes of their guitars—a quiet song that’s somehow simultaneously serene and emotional. _Loving each other doesn’t need a reason_ , Makoto sings, and Rin picks up without losing a beat: _When the memories of us start to fade, it’s the one thing pushing me forward._  

A shout for someone to understand, yearning for everything to be alright, a desperate wish for things not to change when everything moves. This is what their fight was about, Makoto realizes, this is what both he and Rin tries to convey but unable to reach out anyway, except in quiet lyrics laced both with frustration and sadness, and yet, despite everything, still holds fast to hope. 

And this is how they apologize. How they forgive. 

Rin throws him a small smile; _Even now and from this moment, that warmth will never change._  

They would talk, when this is over. Makoto resolves himself to accept, to understand everything Rin is telling him through this song. So he returns the smile, and sings: _No matter how many times I look back, I am looking for remnants of you._  

_I miss you with every movement I take_

_My feelings for you have nowhere to go_

_Distant sky_  

Makoto looks over the audience—mesmerized at the glimmer in their eyes, at the smiles on their faces, at the way they somehow understand without knowing what exactly happened. 

They would be alright, he decides, and looks at Rin. _If I could meet you again, I would certainly say—_  

Rin stares right back at him, soft and open and oh-so-vulnerable as they sing the last line together. 

_“If it’s not you, then it’s no good.”_  

**\-----o0o-----**

“How did you finish this, Rin?” 

“Remember when I came to the café, but we’re both still too made for some reason, and ended up not talking? Haru caught up with me later, gave me this crumpled ball of notes, and I found your lyrics inside.” A pause. “I thought I understood then, a little. I thought I could make it work, our music—because you’d laid up the foundation and I could polish it up, and it’s still _ours_. You’re right. I shouldn’t have thrown it away.” 

“No, you were right for getting mad, too.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It wasn’t our best. I shouldn’t be satisfied just with what we had. I’m sorry, Rin. I’m glad the song could develop even better.” 

“You liked it?” Each word rife with hope, eager. 

“I like it. It’s ours, and you and I—we both did our best for it, even if we did it separately.” 

“…so you’re not mad anymore?” 

A laugh, amused, if apologetic. “That should have been my line. I’m sorry.” 

“Apology accepted.” Then, quieter. “Thank you, Makoto.” 

“No, Rin,” a contented, relieved sigh. “Thank you.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

On the day of Rin’s solo single release, their fans explode. 

Makoto watches, awed, as he absently reads the tweets to Rin’s twitter account. People gushing about his songs, exclamation of how they can’t wait for RaM’s new single as well, both praises and critics alike flooding Rin’s twitter account. Gou is ecstatic, and Haruka has a small smile playing on his lips all morning, while Rei nearly breaks down crying in disbelief at the rapid hike of the cd sales. Nagisa, on the other hand, commandeers the producer’s seat and is now cackling like a villain, eyes lighting up at the positive reviews of Rin’s solo single circulating in the media. 

Rin scratches his head, a faint shade of red tinting his cheeks. “Well, I worked hard.” 

“You did,” Makoto says, chest swelling with pride at the articles on Rin’s solo single. “You deserved it, Rin, I’m so proud of you!” He turns, grinning at Rin teasingly and shows his phone screen. “Look, the fans are clamoring over the song _…Kimi e (To You)_. That’s amazing!” 

Haruka pauses on his way towards Nagisa’s desk, eyes regarding Makoto curiously. “Makoto, have you listened to it?” 

Makoto shrugs, still grinning. “No, I’m waiting for Rin’s promised CD.” 

Rin groans. “You can just snatch one from Nagisa’s desk,” he grumbles half-heartedly, but his hand moves, rummaging into the small backpack he keeps with him at all times, before pulling out one of his solo single CD with Makoto’s name scrawled on the cover. “Here. This is the first one done by the recording agency right after the recording.” 

Makoto eyes it curiously. “Don’t you usually keep this for yourself?” 

The line of Rin’s lips thin, knuckles turning white as his fingers on the CD tighten. “I,” he starts, pauses, and tries again. “I want to give this to you.” 

Makoto blinks. “Me? Why?” 

“So you can listen to it, of course, Makoto-senpai!” Gou pipes in, skipping towards them and drops a cd player and a set of earphones onto Makoto’s lap. She bends lower slightly, eyes serious. “Make sure you listen to it well—Oniichan spent such a long time for them!” 

“Gou!” Rin hisses, and Gou laughs, dances away from Rin’s exasperated grab, ducking safely out of reach. Makoto watches in amusement before returning his attention to the CD—a single consisting of two songs: _Passage_ and _…Kimi e (To You)_. He’d heard Passage in Rin’s secret live the other week, and fans are gushing endlessly over _…Kimi e (To You)_ , so maybe that’s what he should listen to first. 

Rin is quiet as Makoto plugs the earphones and starts the song—a ballad with a touch of R&B, Rin’s own music and signature, smoothly fills his ears with a new harmony that spells out Rin’s growth. Just Rin—the Rin that grows from their time in the park, in RaM, in their old apartments, in their works as idols, the Rin who hasn’t gotten the chance to be expressed, all this time, because RaM is always about two and onot simply one, about us and our music, putting aside their individuality. 

Makoto wonders why he was so scared over this—after all, this unfamiliar side of Rin, too, is shaped from the stories they weave together. 

So he listens, to the new tunes that are both familiar and unfamiliar, to the words that simply Rin’s, to _Those honest eyes, by my side for so long,_ and _You, who can smile like the light,_ and _Even though you are so close,_ and _To you, to you, because I want to tell you—_

_For you, these feelings of love, one more time._  

Makoto lets the CD player drops back to his lap, lets one earphone falls as he raises his eyes to meet Rin’s own, the last parts of the lyrics still echoing in his ears: _For you, so that I am never separated from you again_. He stares into Rin’s eyes, finds them nervous and restless and yet hopeful, and feels his heart stutters unevenly. 

“This—“ he says, eloquently. “For—me…?“ 

Rin doesn’t avert his eyes. Doesn’t look away. But his chin dips, very slowly, and something in Makoto’s chest leaps up to his throat, soars, making his breath catches. “Rin—“ 

If Makoto doubts before, the obvious shade of red that deepens across Rin’s cheeks to the tips of his ears is dismissing any doubtful thoughts. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something for a year,” Rin says quietly, a touch of exasperation in his words. “You never did, so I thought, fuck it, I’m making the first move.” 

Makoto makes a strangled noise. Rin raises an eyebrow, looking amused despite the red dusting his face, and leans forward, scooting closer. “I need an answer, Makoto.” 

“I’m—“ Makoto says stupidly. He flushes when Rin enters his private space, face inches from Makoto’s own. “I’m not. I mean. You. Rin. Are you sure—“ 

“I worked very hard on that,” Rin points out, almost deadpan. Makoto feels inexplicable laughter bubbling up his throat, giddy and disbelieving. “Asking me if I’m sure about this actually offends me.” 

“You don’t look offended,” Makoto blurts out, laughter tumbling out of his lips, and the corners of Rin’s lips curve up into his trademark Matsuoka grin, one that Makoto loves so very much. “I’m. Rin, you’re—“ 

“Shut up and kiss me,” Rin murmurs, leaning up, and Makoto meets him halfway, trapping the last of his laugh between their lips. 

**\-----o0o-----**

 

**サ** **バ**   **@sabamizu  10m**

Rin’s solo single celebration. They apparently cuddle.

Photo attached: makotorinidiotshugging.jpg

Reply                       15K Retweet                           13K Favorite

 

**ムドベ** **25 @C18 @n_arashima 10m**

!!!!!!!! ARE YOU SERIOUS OH MY GOD LOOK AT HOW RINRIN’S HEAD IS TUCKED UNDER MAKOTO’S CHIN

Reply                       105 Retweet                           99 Favorite

 

**やきとりおいしい @poponyo  10m**

I NEED CONTEXT. No, actually, who needs context, just give me all doujins and fics on this now please.

Reply                       223 Retweet                           128 Favorite

 

**ムドベ** **25 @C18 @n_arashima 10m**

I’M ON IT

Reply                       587 Retweet                           697 Favorite

 

**やきとりおいしい @poponyo  10m**

YOU ARE A GODDESS

Reply                       Retweet                  Favorite

 

**みゆきです** **!! @hoshimiyu  9m**

That is really adorable~! They look so happy together, it’s been a while since I see them together, so it’s very nice. Thank you saba-san!

Reply                       2K  Retweet                            1.8K Favorite

 

**りりポノ**   **@maririri  10m**

This is making me want to cry, so I drew something. They’re so cute!

Photo Attached: ramcuddlesart.png

Reply                       2.4K Retweet                          5.8K Favorite

 

**ムドベ** **25 @C18 @n_arashima 9m**

I’m melting, you draw so well, this is so good. RaM is so cute. I hope they’ll be hugging each other even more from now on.

Reply                       134 Retweet                           87 Favorite

 

**りりポノ**   **@maririri  9m**

Thank you! I can’t wait to see what you make for them. Let’s hope RaM would stay lovey-dovey from now on too~

Reply                       2.4K Retweet                          5.8K Favorite

 

**ニヤァ @nyarranko  8m**

IS THIS A LEGIT PICTURE SABA-CHAN?? YOU DIDN’T DO A MANIP OR SOMETHING RIGHT? I WILL CRY

Reply                       7K Retweet                             8.6K Favorite

 

**やきとりおいしい** **@poponyo  8m**

I’m so jealous of saba-chan sometimes. You get to see RaM all close and cute first hand~

Reply                       Retweet                  Favorite

 

**りりポノ  @maririri  6m**

Someone wrote a good fic about this scene, I’m so happy!!

Reply                       Retweet                  Favorite

 

**\-----o0o-----**

Haruka stares at the commotion of the fans on the screen of his phone, before turning over to look at Rin stealing another peck to Makoto’s lips. “They’re still at it?” 

“Young love,” Nagisa singsongs. Gou makes a face at him. “Aw, Gou-chan, look how happy Rin-chan is!” 

“Maybe I should’ve tweeted the one with them kissing,” Haruka murmurs thoughtfully. “I had a great shot of their first kiss.” 

“Haruka-san,” Rei pushes his glasses up, tone serious. “Do remember that teasing gets us longer reaction than outright admitting.” 

From the couch, Makoto yelps, followed by a sound of things tumbling and hitting the floor, and then Rin’s laughter. 

Haruka starts compiling links to send to both Rin and Makoto later. The fanwork are so good, after all, it’d be a waste if RaM is the only one who isn’t seeing the celebration. 

**\-----o0oendo0o-----**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [36°C PV](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA6fz6XoL6A). Also [Passage PV](http://www.jpopasia.com/celebrity/mamorumiyano/videos/passage::44547.html) and [ Kimi E PV](http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XMjg5OTA0MTE2.html), both by Miyano Mamoru who is Rin's seiyuu.

**Author's Note:**

> [Hava Rava PV](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iwx_4Q_Eu9I), [Kimi ga Boku ni Kiss wo Shita PV](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBIk5sOsVNc) and [Boku no Kimochi](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbbtOQC6Izk) PV, just in case you're curious. :3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [When Your Best Friend Happens To Be A Great Artist](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645748) by [alata_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alata_chan/pseuds/alata_chan)




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